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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28545207">I never really cared until I met you (aka Your Love Is Like Being Hit By a 2018 Subaru Forester)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilesawakeyou/pseuds/fullofbeansandspunk'>fullofbeansandspunk (smilesawakeyou)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(like very light undertones), Accidental attempted vehicular manslaughter as a plot device, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Gay Richie Tozier, Graysexual Eddie Kaspbrak, Hand Jobs, Hawaiian shirts are gay culture, I just think Patty Uris is neat, It's only unrequited because they're both morons, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mororomantic Graysexual Eddie Kaspbrak, Morosexual Eddie Kaspbrak, Mutual Pining, Mutual Stalking, Nobody is Dead, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Alternating, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Burn, Stanley Uris Lives, The only clowns in this story are the dipshits starring in it, touch-starved men failing at social interactions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:20:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>49,223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28545207</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilesawakeyou/pseuds/fullofbeansandspunk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a classic tale of boy-meets-boy except it’s boy-hits-boy-with-his-car (and-they-become-friends-but-then-they-fall-in-love-or-something).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>197</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Today’s another day to find you (aka How’d a Nice Boy Like You End Up In A River Like this)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You know those bots that people feed like 10000 hours of the Bachelor to and it generates an episode? Picture that, but me watching roughly 75 Hallmark and Netflix Christmas romance movies while mainlining IT fic for the entirety of December. This is what such activities produce.</p><p>This is a romantic comedy of sorts - an AU where the Pennywise events never happened but the group grew up in two separate towns yet everyone ended up in New York. And since The Knight Before Christmas so badly bungled the attempted vehicular manslaughter meet-cute, I decided to give it a go myself.</p><p> </p><p>Disclaimer: this is unbetaed because I don’t know anyone in this fandom. The entirety of it was written over roughly 8 days, and Eddie’s experiences with sexual attraction and his grey/ace feelings are based on my own. Richie’s approach to the situation might be how I wish someone would approach it with me. I don’t know. I might have been working through some shit. </p><p>I don't have to explain myself, you're not my dad.</p><p> </p><p>I'll be updating this every few days</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <span class="u"> <em>Eddie</em> </span>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>If pressed, Eddie could admit that he was driving faster than was strictly advisable. Yes, it was night. Yes, it had rained not that long ago. But there were no other cars and his brights were on in spite of the harsh streetlights everywhere and he wondered for the ninth time where the hell Ben was having them meet for dinner (in the warehouse district of all places) but whatever, it was fine. He was trying to be <em>fun</em> Eddie now. Fun Eddie did things like meet his artsy friends in an area he was unfamiliar with at night. Fun Eddie only complained slightly when his GPS got him lost. Fun Eddie didn’t get stressed out and frazzled.</p><p>Fun Eddie might as well have been a unicorn for how real he was but Ben never commented when the “fun” version of Eddie always showed up far too early or very very late, sweaty and with eyes a little too wild. Ben always seemed sincerely happy that he had come at all.</p><p>That’s how he was in this predicament and maybe the old Eddie might have blamed Ben for what transpired next.</p><p>One moment he was glancing down, pressing buttons on his GPS, muttering “take me through an area that isn’t a murderer’s wetdream” to himself - the next moment he looked up and saw a figure directly in front of him. His brain registered a man, holding a phone in his hands, suddenly looking up, fear flashing across his face. Eddie’s mind blanked, the desperate and wild thought running in his head that “I couldn’t have been looking down for more than a half second” and a following thought of “was he fucking <em>texting</em>?” coming soon after as he jerked the wheel to the left. He winced at the unmistakable clunk against the passenger’s side door of something making contact as he slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt. He worried for a moment about hydroplaning but the car stopped easily enough. The worry was replaced by a new worry when he heard a distinct and distant splash.</p><p>“Shit,” he muttered, struggling to get his seatbelt off, yanking his door open and nearly falling out.</p><p>“Shit,” he breathed because the figure wasn’t there anymore. What was there was a railing that separated the street from the river.</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>,” he hissed, seeing a phone on the ground and he rushed to the railing.</p><p>He could see a body down there, floating but it was too dark to tell if he was face-up, and panic flared through Eddie’s entire body as he pulled out his phone and shakily dialed 911. </p><p>“Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered to himself before a tinny voice greeted him. “Hello, yes,"  Eddie heard himself hiccuping to the operator, "there’s been an accident, there’s a guy in the river, he fell in." He rattled off the address, pacing, looking desperately for anyone else around. There was no one. The woman on the other end asked him to stay calm. Stay put.</p><p>The body wasn’t moving.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said weakly, “I don’t think either of those things are gonna happen.” He started to strip off his jacket and hastily step out of his shoes. The Hudson river was a cesspool. A breeding ground for all kind of bacteria, probably parasites. Weird runoffs from waste treatment plants and factories. Dead bodies. Every part of him said, “Don’t go in there, you moron.”</p><p>“Please tell them to get here fast,” he muttered into the receiver. With that, he hung up, put his phone onto his pile of belongings and before he could reconsider, dove off the partition.</p><p>“Oh shit,” he gasped as he came up for air, gagging and spitting river water out of his mouth. “Oh fuck, gross, this is freezing. I’m such a fucking idiot, oh my god.”</p><p>He looked around and spotted the other man about 4 feet away.</p><p>Grabbing him around the waist (shit the guy was tall, Jesus), he started to swim towards a small landing not too far away. There was a gash on his forehead and his glasses had one cracked lense and Eddie prayed that he didn’t A) have brain damage and/or b) get an infection from the disgusting water.</p><p>“Please be alive,” Eddie muttered, teeth chattering. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”</p><p>With numb hands and strength he didn’t even know he had, he hauled the man up onto the landing and, with shivering fingers, took his pulse.</p><p>“Oh thank god,” he sighed as he found one. He lightly slapped the other man’s face. “Hey, buddy,” he barked, tapping his cheeks. “Wake up, please.”</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Sighing, he cast a pleading glance up to the sky. Giving CPR to a man whose mouth was full of river water was up there on the list of shit Eddie never wanted to experience but he was the idiot who started this train moving. Cursing, he started chest compressions and breathing into his mouth, gagging at the water there. It only took two tries before the other man was suddenly choking, alive, and gagging water onto the landing.</p><p>“Oh christ, thank you <em>God</em>,” Eddie muttered. “Fuck me.”</p><p>The man coughed and blinked at him.</p><p>“Buy me dinner first,” he said weakly before promptly barfing all over Eddie’s pants.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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</div><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <span class="u"> <em>Richie</em> </span>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>The wait for the ambulance was fuzzy. Richie was fairly sure he had hit his head. He might have hit on the man who had come into the river to get him, who he was also fairly sure was the same guy who almost hit him with his car. Well, he <em>had</em> clipped Richie’s bag that had been slung over his shoulder and, when Richie tried to correct his balance so he wouldn’t fall more into the side of the car, had overcorrected and fallen into the river apparently. He wasn’t sure where his bag was. It was probably at the bottom of the Hudson with only fish to appreciate his notebooks full of jokes.</p><p>Unfortunate.</p><p>Once the ambulance got there, everyone was fussing over him, which was kind of nice. He noticed one of the EMTs also examining the other guy. The police showed up shortly thereafter and Richie saw the other guy approach a cop and open his mouth, his hand starting to gesture towards the SUV Richie saw parked (badly) on the side of the road. Without thinking, Richie cut him off.</p><p>“He fucking dove in after me when I lost my balance and fell in,” he explained, fast and loud, tone grateful. The other man’s mouth snapped shut, eyes big and shocked, as everyone turned to look at him. Richie shot him a look, giving him a slight shake of the head. Then he winced because, ow.</p><p>If the guy told them what happened, he might get arrested. It would definitely be a whole thing. And from what Richie could tell (although yeah, he was a little fucked up at the moment), it had been an accident. Richie hadn’t been paying attention. He was walking on the side of the road without a sidewalk. While texting. Also, the guy <em>had</em> jumped in after him.</p><p>“Yeah,” the other guy said. “I saw it so I pulled over. I had to do CPR so you might wanna check his chest for fractures.”</p><p>Even in Richie’s dazed state, he blinked at the other man in surprise. <em>CPR?</em>  Shit, he really did save Richie’s life.</p><p>The man looked lost as Richie was carted onto the ambulance. But then the doors shut and there was an IV full of some kind of fun fluid and also a warm blanket and Richie let himself doze into oblivion, only vaguely remembering the fact that he had definitely puked on the other guy.</p><p>Too bad. He was kind of cute.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Richie was pretty sure he was never going to see the other man again. He was also pretty sure he was never going to see his phone again. He couldn’t remember if it had gone into the river with him. Maybe he’d dropped it before he fell and now some rat had it.</p><p>He also couldn’t remember any of his friends’ numbers, which was unfortunate. He had to assure the nurses that this was because of his general unwillingness to memorize numbers, not because of the head injury.</p><p>He also had one bruised rib and had to get stitches on his forehead. The doctor didn’t seem to think it would get infected, which was cool. Richie was on some pretty choice painkillers.</p><p>He was in the hospital bed and in the middle of trying to sweet talk the nurse into giving him another hit (not like a <em>dangerous</em> amount, just enough to make things a little more fun) when the door to his room suddenly swung open and to Richie’s shock, the river guy was standing in the doorway.</p><p>“Sir, this is a private room,” the nurse informed him, forehead creased in annoyance.</p><p>Richie waved a hand. “Don’t worry, he’s the guy who hit me with his car.” River guy froze, large brown eyes going even larger and the color draining from his face as the nurse stared at him. “Just kidding,” Richie said, grinning. “He’s my boyfriend.”</p><p>Both of them turned to look at Richie, twin expressions of utter bafflement on their faces. When the nurse shot an incredulous glance the river guy’s way, he had the presence of mind to look insulted and make some kind of gesture like “yeah, I’m his boyfriend, what of it?” It was enough to make a sincere smile break out across Richie’s face.</p><p>The nurse blinked back at Richie. “I wasn’t aware you…”</p><p>Richie grinned harder. They had briefly established that the nurse knew who he was but she hadn’t mentioned any of his material.</p><p>“Ah, I see you’re only familiar with my older sets. Watch the special from like four years ago, it should be illuminating. It’s on Netlix.”</p><p>He winked.</p><p>The river guy let out a noise of realization, snapping his fingers and pointing at Richie. “That’s who you are! You’re that fucking comedian!”</p><p>He did <em>not</em> say it like this was a good thing.</p><p>Richie’s grin grew forced as the nurse turned to look between them, now even more suspicious.</p><p>“This is a roleplay thing we do,” Richie said quickly, “I just love when he pretends to not know who I am and imply that he hates my comedy - could we have a moment alone?”</p><p>Obviously not buying it, the nurse threw him a bone. “Fine,” she said, “but press the button for help if the ‘roleplay’ gets out of hand.” As she passed river guy, she sized him up. “I’ve got my eye on you.”</p><p>River guy had the audacity to look offended but then the door clicked shut and they were alone. They stared at each other.</p><p>“What can I do you for?” Richie asked after the silence got to be too much for him. “Here to finish the job?” The guy blinked at him in confusion. “You can’t fit your car in here but you could probably hold a pillow over my face if you try really hard.” Richie gestured to his biceps. “My upper-arm strength is shit, you might be able to take me.”</p><p>“What?” river guy asked, looking a little twitchy and a lot guilty. “No, what? <em>No</em>, I have your phone.” He thrust his hand forward and, sure enough, there was Richie’s phone. It was cracked to shit but it turned on when Richie pressed the button on the side.</p><p>“Oh fuck! Thanks.” Richie examined the fractured glass. “I was worried some rat dragged it into the subway and was, like, ruining my score on Candy Crush.”</p><p>River guy took a moment to process this. “That would be… concerning,” he said, slowly, like Richie had a head injury or something. Which he did.</p><p>Richie winked. “Don’t worry, I’m <em>very</em> bad at it.” He paused. “Wait, how did you find out where I was?”</p><p>River guy looked a bit shifty. “I asked some people, they told me. Security apparently sucks here.”</p><p>Richie narrowed his eyes at him because that sounded suspiciously like a crock of shit but whatever.</p><p>“Okaaay,” he said slowly before opening his phone to the group chat, taking a quick selfie (with a peace sign and obnoxious duck face and the heart monitor clearly visible) and typing out the hospital’s name and his room number.</p><p>“Did you just take a selfie?” river guy asked weakly.</p><p>“Yeah,” Richie replied, hitting send.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Richie shrugged. “Just letting some friends know I’m in the hospital.”</p><p>River guy scowled. “With a fucking <em>selfie</em>?” When Richie shrugged again, he shook his head and leveled Richie with a new glare. “Here’s another question: were you fucking texting when I hit you?” he demanded.</p><p>Richie froze. “I mean…” he trailed off and apparently that was enough.</p><p>“I fucking <em>knew it</em>,” he hissed. “I thought I saw you texting and I opened your phone and it was on your messenger screen and you don’t have a fucking passcode by the way, why don’t you have a passcode?”</p><p>Richie blinked, sinking down a bit. “It’s a new phone.”</p><p>“It automatically ports from your old phone, did your old phone have a passcode?” river guy shot back, impossibly fast. Richie opened his mouth but no words came out. This was something Stan had yelled at him about repeatedly with his old phone but Richie certainly wasn’t going to volunteer <em>that</em> information.</p><p>“Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” the guy continued, obviously worked up now. “You’re basically famous, you idiot! Any creep could hack into your shit, not that it’s really hacking if you’re not trying to stop them!” He ran a hand through his hair. “I fucking - I can’t believe you - also, who the fuck walks around in the dark and doesn’t walk on the sidewalk? Are you kidding me? If you’re going to do that you could at least wear some reflective clothing. A roadside vest is like five dollars, Jesus Christ. You can’t afford a reflective vest with all your Netflix money?”</p><p>Richie’s brain couldn’t process all of this - the combination of getting pelted with word bullets, his head injury and being full of painkillers was making this a lot.</p><p>“I’m sorry, are you yelling at me for not wearing an orange vest when I’m walking around at night? I’m not a construction worker or, like, a crossing guard.”</p><p>“Not just crossing guards and construction workers wear reflective clothing, asshole,” river guy snarled, pointing a finger at him. “I’m saying that visibility sucks when there are no streetlights and you displayed an absurd amount of hubris by thinking you’d be fine just waltzing around in the dark and not paying attention!”</p><p>Richie gaped again as the guy cut himself off to inexplicably go into his wallet.</p><p>“Anyway,” he continued, ”let’s exchange information for insurance and I’ll pay for your stay here.” He still sounded mad but his words were much less accusatory. Were they in a fight? Was the fight still happening? “Do you even have insurance? Also, are you okay? How’s your head? Do you have any rib fractures?”</p><p>Richie didn’t get a chance to respond before a card was being shoved into his hand. He was still trying to find a response when river guy’s phone vibrated and he picked up, holding up an apologetic hand Richie’s way.</p><p>“Yeah, hey,” he said as he went to the corner to have the conversation in relative private. Richie gaped after him and blinked down at the card in his hands.</p><p>
  <em>Edward Kaspbrak</em>
</p><p>Hmm.</p><p>Who the fuck made insurance cards that they could just hand out in case of an accident? Richie definitely only had one and he wasn’t even sure where it was.</p><p>Who <em>was</em> this guy?</p><p>He vaguely registered Edward giving Richie’s room number before hanging up.</p><p>“Sorry about that,” he said. “My friends are worried about me. I told them I was fine. I gave them your room number because they’re on their way, hopefully that’s okay. It’s fine if it’s not, I can just tell them somewhere else to meet me once they’re here.”</p><p>“Edward,” was all Richie could say in response.</p><p>Edward stared at him. “What?”</p><p>“That’s your name?” Richie clarified, holding up the card.</p><p>“Oh.” Edward stopped, eyebrows furrowing. “Uh, yeah but -” He stopped, blinking at Richie. “It’s Eddie.”</p><p>Richie smiled. That sounded better. “Eddie,” he said, trying it out. “Nice.”</p><p>His phone buzzed and when he glanced at it, he saw he had missed an eyeroll emoji from Stan and a simple message from Bev, reading: “!!!!!!!”</p><p>Nothing from Bill yet.</p><p>There was a slight knock on the door and nurse peaked her head in. “Sorry, Mr. Tozier? There’s a <em>very</em> agitated woman here to see you.”</p><p>She gave Eddie a look, like her saying someone was agitated was a big deal given present company.</p><p>“Red hair, about as tall as him?” Richie asked, gesturing to Eddie. The nurse nodded. “Yeah, I know her, send her in.”</p><p>He checked his phone, noting the time. “Damn, that was quick.”</p><p>“Who…?”</p><p>Richie didn’t get a chance to respond before Bev came barrelling in. “Richie, what the fuck?”</p><p>“Hey, Bev! How’d you get here so fast?”</p><p>She dropped her bag on the chair and sat on the edge of his bed, leaning forward to hold each of his eyes open, peering into them.</p><p>“I was nearby at a restaurant. I might have left my date there. Are you okay?”</p><p>Richie winced. “Sorry. And basically. Head injury, stitches, and a bruised rib,” he rattled off.</p><p>“So your arm’s okay?” Bev asked.</p><p>“Yeah, why?” Richie was able to ask before Beverly hauled off and punched him in the shoulder. Hard. “Ow, Beverly, why?!” he moaned.</p><p>He noticed Eddie standing in the corner, eyes wide and mildly terrified.</p><p>“You sent me a fucking selfie instead of telling me what the fuck was going on, you dipshit!” Beverly hissed at him, obviously trying not to yell. “I ran out on my date!”</p><p>“Beverlyyyy,” Richie whined, “I said I’m sorryyy! I fell in the river, be nice to meeeeee.”</p><p>Beverly gave him a slightly amused look and snorted, rolling her eyes. She moved to sit in the chair next to Richie’s bed, the fight obviously gone out of her.</p><p>“It’s fine, he wasn’t very interesting anyway.” She glanced to the left and seemingly noticed Eddie cowering in the corner for the first time. “Oh,” she said, tone much nicer as she blinked in surprise. “Hi.” She looked at Richie. “Who’s this?”</p><p>Richie smiled. “Oh, that’s my boyfriend.”</p><p>Eddie mouthed “<em>Why?!</em>” in quiet desperation at him as Beverly looked at Richie like maybe his head injury was worse than he’d let on.</p><p>“Pardon?” she asked slowly.</p><p>Richie laughed. “Just kidding.” He spread out his hands, as if going <em>ta-da</em>. “He’s the guy that hit me with his car!”</p><p>Beverly got to her feet, staring at Eddie. “He <em>what</em>?” she gasped, enraged once again. Eddie shrank even more.</p><p>“Beverly,” Richie waved a hand, “it’s okay, calm down. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”</p><p>“Richie, as your lawyer, I advise that you let me handle this,” Beverly said, not looking away from Eddie.</p><p>Richie snorted. “You’re a fucking fashion designer, you maniac. Sit down and chill out and I’ll tell you what happened.” As an afterthought, he added, “Then you can decide if you wanna kill Eddie.”</p><p>Eddie looked vaguely betrayed as Beverly shot Richie a put-out look before dropping into the chair next to his bed again. “Why do you always blow up my spot? People believe me when I tell them I’m your lawyer.”</p><p>“That’s because you’re hot and competent.” Richie gestured to another chair. “Eddie, sit, it’s okay. I know she’s scary but I won’t let her hurt you.”</p><p>Eddie looked like he wanted to leave but did as he was told, sitting on the edge of the chair. He shot up again immediately as the door opened again, revealing none other than Stanley Uris. He was in a tie, which wasn’t odd, but he was wearing nice shoes, which was.</p><p>“Sup,” he said walking in, eying Richie critically. “You dying?”</p><p>Richie rolled his eyes. “Stan, sit. Oh, this is Eddie.” He gestured Eddie’s way. “I was just about to tell Beverly what happened.”</p><p>As Richie recounted the events of the night, he supposed his friends’ esteem for him might have fallen even lower were such a thing possible, based on their shared exasperated expressions. Eddie, for one, seemed extremely relieved to hear that he had only clipped Richie’s bag but still looked almost sick with guilt when Richie described falling in. Eddie also filled in some blanks, his words much more sparse this time though (none of that fire he displayed before), as he described grabbing Richie’s unconscious body and performing CPR. By the end, Stan and Beverly almost seemed impressed by him.</p><p>That’s when Richie noticed the phone in Stan’s hands.</p><p>“Stanley Uris,” Richie warned, “you better not be telling your wife about this.”</p><p>Stan looked up at him, phone still in his grasp as he continued to type something though his eyes were on Richie. He didn’t even look down as he said, “Of course not,” tone exceedingly casual, fingers moving at lightning speed. Richie narrowed his eyes as a swoosh noise of a text being sent sounded and Stan pocketed his phone.</p><p>Richie’s phone almost immediately lit up and vibrated as text alerts popped up.</p><p>“Goddammit, Stan,” Richie muttered, picking it up. Already 12 messages. All Patty. “She’s going to worry.”</p><p>Stan made a considering face. “Only if she feels bad for you.” He shrugged. “Besides, I was supposed to go to a dinner with her and her parents but instead I got an ‘emergency text’ that consisted of a fucking selfie.”</p><p>Ah, that explained the shoes.</p><p>“I told him that was a dumb idea,” Eddie muttered.</p><p>Beverly turned to him. “How about you? Are <em>you</em> okay?” she asked, tone warm.</p><p>Eddie’s eyes darted between Richie and her. “Me?” He blinked. “Yeah, the doctor said my body temperature was just low but I convinced them to release me.”</p><p>“After which he somehow ‘got my room number’, I’m sure through legitimate means,” Richie interjected. Eddie looked shifty again. “Actually, you guys would be impressed, he basically came in here to give me my phone and started yelling at me immediately.”</p><p>Eddie scoffed. “I didn’t <em>yell</em> at you.” He rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t yelling. You’d know if I was yelling.”</p><p>“Hoo boy.” Richie whistled. “Careful, Eddie - if that wasn’t yelling, I’m worried about how horny I’ll get when you <em>do</em> yell at me,” Richie said with a wink. “I might faint. I only have so much blood in my body, dude.”</p><p>Eddie spluttered for a moment, turning beet red, as Beverly and Stan groaned.</p><p>“I’m sorry he’s like this,” Beverly said, kindly.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <span class="u"> <em>Eddie</em> </span>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p>Eddie was trying to figure out an exit strategy. He had accomplished his mission of giving Richie fucking Tozier (who hits a minor celebrity with their fucking car? Eddie, that’s who) his contact information and apparently yelling at the man for being irresponsible. He hadn’t really meant to get angry but it was just so <em>boneheaded</em>. It had kind of just… bubbled over. Of course his dumb anger issues had to expose him for being a crazy person at the worst moment.</p><p>He had intended to apologize but instead he called him an idiot.</p><p>Typical.</p><p>But… Richie didn’t seem mad or upset. He seemed to… like it? He seemed to like Eddie?</p><p>It was probably the drugs the hospital gave him.</p><p>Richie’s friends were also nice if a bit overwhelming. Apparently there was another one in their friend group, someone named Bill. Richie had seemed put out at the lack of response from the man, earning an deadpan yet annoyed, “He’s in fucking England, you idiot. It’s like five AM there,” from his friend Stan.</p><p>Richie had deflated a bit. “Oh, shit. I forgot about the shoot.”</p><p>Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed. Shoot?</p><p>“He’s a writer on a movie that’s coming out next year,” Beverly explained, noticing his confusion. She turned back to Richie. “I’m sure he’ll come when he gets back tomorrow though he’s probably going to have even less sympathy than either of us.”</p><p>Richie sniffed and held his phone to his chest. “At least Patty cares about me.”</p><p>Patty was apparently Stan’s wife, from what Eddie had gathered.</p><p>“Patty cares about everyone because Patty is a saint,” Stan said, shaking his head. “Don’t feel special.”</p><p>Just then, there was another knock on the door and the now-obviously irritated nurse peaked back in.</p><p>“More visitors,” she drawled. “Which I am allowing for some reason.”</p><p>She opened the door wider to reveal Mike and Ben. Eddie stood up. Thank fucking God.</p><p>Ben shrank back a bit, taking in how many people were already in the room. Mike gave a small awkward wave.</p><p>“Hi,” he said, as charming as ever.</p><p>Eddie wrung his hands. “Hey, guys. These are…” He gestured vaguely to the whole room. “People I have now met. Everyone, these are my friends, Mike and Ben. Mike, Ben - we should probably go, right?”</p><p>Richie waved a dismissing hand. “Hey, the more the merrier, come on in you guys!”</p><p>Eddie sighed and sat back down.</p><p>A look of recognition passed over Ben’s face as he and Mike shuffled into the room. Eddie spotted him surreptitiously pulling out his phone and felt his own phone vibrate not too soon after. He glanced down at it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><b>Ben Hanscom</b><br/>
You hit RICHIE TOZIER with your car???</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Eddie pursed his lips as he slid the phone back into his pocket. He happened to glance up to find Richie watching him, a knowing smirk on his face. Eddie felt his neck heat up as Richie looked away to regard Mike and Ben.</p><p>“Hi, I’m -” he started, reaching out a hand.</p><p>“Richie Tozier,” Mike finished for him, giving his hand a firm shake. “I’m familiar with your work. I’m Mike Hanlon, this is Ben Hanscom.”</p><p>Eddie heard Richie mutter, “More like Ben Handsome,” under his breath before Beverly elbowed him.</p><p>Stan looked amused. “Ah, like the architect.” Ben gave a little shrug, a sheepish smile on his face. “Oh shit,” Stan said. “You <em>are</em> the architect?”</p><p>Ben rubbed the back of his neck, self-deprecating as ever. “Yeah, that’s me.”</p><p>Richie gestured towards Beverly. “And this is Beverly Marsh, yes, like the fashion designer.”</p><p>Mike’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, wow!” Eddie looked at Ben because what the fuck did Mike know about fashion? The man wore elbow patches. But Ben was just staring at Beverly, a moony expression on his face. “That’s really cool.”</p><p>“Mike’s a professor,” Ben said, apparently collecting himself and gesturing excitedly Mike’s way. “He’s recently tenured.”</p><p>He beamed at Mike who gave him an exasperated expression. Ben made a good if not unwieldy hype man. Eddie was slowly being swallowed by nerves, silently hoping that if he stayed quiet enough no one would ask him about his depressing life.</p><p>“And that’s Stan,” Richie said, pointing Stan’s way. “He’s an accountant! Isn’t <em>that</em> interesting? His favorite activity is <em>puzzles</em>.”</p><p>Stan snorted. “Beep beep, Richie.” He gave everyone a terse smile. “He enjoys pointing out how boring my job and my life are whenever he can because being an asshole is the only way he knows how to show affection.”</p><p>Richie gave Stan finger guns before gesturing at Mike and Ben. “So a professor and an architect,” he hummed, tapping his chin in exaggerated thought. “Now tell me, how did two nice, normal guys like you end up being friends with this feral gremlin?” he asked, nonchalant as he gestured Eddie’s way.</p><p>Eddie glared at him as Ben let out a startled laugh. Mike kept his composure but he pursed his lips, obviously biting down on a smile.</p><p>“Undergrad,” he said simply. “He called one of our professors racist and the rest is kind of a blur.”</p><p>Ben raised a hand. “Seventh grade. I was new and fell off my bike and he yelled at me for not having neosporin before giving me some.” He shot Eddie a teasing smile. “He kept it in a fanny pack.”</p><p>“Wonderful. Thanks, guys,” Eddie muttered.</p><p>Richie looked delighted. “We met Bev in seventh grade, too!” He gestured to Stan. “We’ve known each other since we were, like, five or something. Same as Bill.”</p><p>Stan gave him a fake sweet smile. “Every year has been a gift.”</p><p>Richie looked ready to respond when the door swung open and the nurse walked in.</p><p>“I have tried to be patient,” she started, hands on her hips, “but it is late and our patients need to sleep. I hate to break up the party but I need you all to leave.”</p><p>Beverly grabbed Richie’s hand. “He has to stay?”</p><p>Richie patted her arm with his free hand. “They want me overnight for observation,” he explained. “It’s fine, Bev.”</p><p>They started filing out, Eddie at the rear when Richie cleared his throat. “Eddie, can you hang back?” Eddie hesitated. “It’ll only take a second,” he clarified when Eddie shot him what must’ve been an apprehensive look.</p><p>“Yeah?” he asked, wary, as he approached the hospital bed.</p><p>“Listen,” Richie started, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m not taking any of your money and we’re not telling your insurance about this.”</p><p>Eddie blinked down at him. “Mr. Tozier…” he began before Richie waved a hand at him.</p><p>“Ugh, no, please call me Richie.”</p><p>Eddie sighed. “Richie,” he amended. “I can’t let you do that. I’m obviously the responsible party, I can’t just…”</p><p>But Richie was adamantly shaking his head. “Nope. Like you said, I was partially at blame.”</p><p>Eddie scoffed. “I wasn’t fucking <em>blaming</em> you, I was just mad -” He took an annoyed inhale. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is, this is my fault.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you fucking dove into the Hudson river to get me,” Richie retorted, crossing his arms. “I think that makes us pretty even.”</p><p>Eddie crossed his arms right back. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t have been in there if it wasn’t for me!”</p><p>“You did CPR on me!”</p><p>“Because I had to!”</p><p>“You saved my fucking life!”</p><p>Eddie threw up his hands. “Because I <em>almost killed you!</em>”</p><p>The nurse then chose that moment to clear her throat. Ah, right. She was still in the room. Richie started to speak but she held up a silencing finger. “If you say this conversation is roleplay, I am going to smack that smart mouth of yours.” Richie’s jaw clicked shut. “He needs to go.”</p><p>“I know, sorry,” Richie apologized. He regarded Eddie. “Dude, I get that you feel guilty but here’s a word of advice: don’t. I consider us even.” He gave Eddie a small, genuine smile. “Have a good night.”</p><p>“But…” Eddie started but the nurse gave him a look so withering he found himself shrinking back, out into the hallway where Mike and Ben were waiting for him.</p><p>“You okay?” Ben asked, handing him his jacket.</p><p>“I don’t know,” was all Eddie could say in reply.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>See, the thing of it was… Eddie wasn’t great at trusting other people. Especially if they were trying to assure him that “it’s okay” or to “not worry about it.” Eddie was kind of pathologically incapable of not worrying about it.</p><p>He didn’t plan on coming back to the hospital. He honestly didn’t. But then he was in his car the next day (Ben had helped him get it back from where he’d abandoned it), planning on going to get some groceries and suddenly he was at the little parking ticket machine at the hospital and pulling into the garage.</p><p>“Shit,” he muttered to himself, pressing his forehead into the steering wheel. “God dammit. Fuck.”</p><p>Whatever. It was fine.</p><p>He was just going to actually apologize properly this time. He was going to apologize and try to get Richie to accept that Eddie was responsible for what happened and shouldn’t get any credit for whatever life-saving bullshit Richie seemed to think he should get brownie points for. He was going to go in there, calmly give the man a check, apologize and leave. He was <em>not</em> going to yell.</p><p>He could do this.</p><p>Eddie bounced his forehead on the steering wheel. “Come the fuck on, man.”</p><p>Taking a deep breath, he sat up and got out, marching towards the elevator.</p><p>Luckily once Eddie reached the correct floor, there was a different nurse that afternoon and she seemed less concerned about him than the one the night before had been.</p><p>“Oh, someone’s already in there but I can check and see if he’s okay to see you?” she said, smiling. She looked like she could be fifteen.</p><p>Eddie tried to smile back but his nerves made it feel more like a grimace. “That would be great. My name’s Eddie. Thank you.”</p><p>She left him and he started pacing.</p><p>He was going to be nice. He was not going to yell. He was going to be in and out and it would be fine. He wouldn’t get sucked into… whatever that was from the night before again. So what if the other man was good at getting Eddie riled up? Everyone could be good at getting him riled up. It wasn’t like it was hard.</p><p>He froze when the nurse appeared again, smiling even brighter. “He said you can come in,” she said, leading him down the hall. She then leaned in and, a bit conspiratorially, added, “He seemed pretty surprised and excited when I told him you were here.”</p><p>Eddie scoffed but couldn’t ignore the fact that his ears felt hot and his stomach was a bit warm.</p><p>“Well, he’s an idiot,” he replied, without thinking.</p><p>The nurse gave him an amused look before showing him to the door. “Go ahead,” she invited, looking at him in a way that was far too knowing, given the actual circumstances.</p><p>Eddie hesitated for a moment before pushing his way inside. There was another man there, sitting beside Richie. If Eddie was being brutally honest, he kind of looked like shit. There were bags under his eyes and Eddie spotted luggage near the door.</p><p>“Eddie Kaspbrak!” Richie crooned as soon as he spotted him. “Well well well, look who’s back.”</p><p>Eddie ran a hand over the back of his neck, annoyed to find that his skin felt flushed there. “Sorry to interrupt. I was…” He gestured vaguely. “In the neighborhood.”</p><p>Richie grinned at him. “You don’t need to make excuses if you just wanted to see me.”</p><p>Eddie’s face felt like it was burning. He pressed his lips together, trying not to scowl.</p><p>Richie seemed to know anyway and smiled even harder. “This is my buddy, Bill. He was the one that was in England.”</p><p>Bill waved a hand that then went to his mouth to stifle a yawn. “S-sorry,” he stuttered out. “I basically came here straight from a r-r-redeye to make sure this idiot was okay.” He gave Eddie a sleepy smile. “So you’re the famous Eddie.”</p><p>Eddie shot Richie a curious look but Richie was too busy giving Bill a tense smile to notice. “Right, yeah, famous for the whole car thing,” Richie said in a voice with a strange edge to it.</p><p>Bill gave him a look that Eddie couldn’t really parse before rolling his eyes and smiling again at Eddie. “Yeah, Rich told me what happened. Totally crazy.” He shook his head. “Thanks for saving his life.”</p><p>Seriously? Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache coming on. “I only had to because I knocked him into the river.”</p><p>Bill wrinkled his nose. “I <em>guess</em> but, knowing Richie, he may have ended up in there anyway.”</p><p>He ignored Richie’s indignant “hey!” and Eddie couldn’t help but smile.</p><p>“So really: thanks.” Bill ran a hand through his hair, checking his watch. “Rich, I love you but unless you want me to take over that bed, I need to go home.”</p><p>Richie pouted. “You know I’d let you spoon me whenever you want.”</p><p>Bill smirked but got unsteadily to his feet. “Enticing but I’d prefer to sleep in a bed that’s bigger than a twin if I’m sharing it with a sasquatch.” He reached out a hand to Eddie, giving it a quick shake. “Nice meeting you but I’m dead s-so I’m gonna head out.”</p><p>He gave Richie a little wave and grabbed his bags, leaving as Richie called, “Bye bitch!” after him.</p><p>And so they were alone. Again.</p><p>Eddie took a deep breath.</p><p>“You here to yell at me again?” Richie asked, a little too wary for it to be completely facetious.</p><p>Eddie sighed through his nose. “No,” he said, firm. “I came here to apologize. Properly.”</p><p>Richie gave him a curious look. “You already apologized.”</p><p>Eddie shook his head. “I yelled at you and called you an idiot like five times!”</p><p>Richie’s forehead crinkled and he glanced around the room, as if looking for clues. “I just kind of assumed that’s how you apologize,” he said carefully.</p><p>Eddie let out an annoyed breath. “Well, yes, I <em>guess</em>, but I’m trying to be less of a dick about it!”</p><p>Richie squinted at the ceiling. “So you came all the way here to give me another apology that I assumed you had already given me because you wanted to be nicer?”</p><p>Eddie threw up his hands. “Yes!”</p><p>Richie bit his lip. “And this is… you being nice?”</p><p>Deflating, Eddie dropped his hands and gripped his hair again. “I’d like to try to be,” he said, softer this time. “I was an asshole last night. I just get wound up and - I don’t know.”</p><p>Richie gave him a long look. “What, you? Nooooo.”</p><p>Eddie let out a slightly amused exhale. “Shut up.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, okay? I should have been paying more attention and I feel awful that you’re here because of me.” He could see Richie gearing up to argue again and he held up a hand, squeezing his eyes shut. “Can you just accept my apology? Please?”</p><p>He opened his eyes to find Richie with an odd, small smile on his face, like he was seeing Eddie for the first time.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said finally, voice quiet and expression soft. “I can do that.”</p><p>An odd little fluttering feeling tickled in Eddie’s stomach at that moment and he felt compelled to look away.</p><p>He heard Richie clear his throat. “Wanna go on a walk? I’m bored of this room.”</p><p>Eddie blinked at him. “A walk?”</p><p>“Yeah. Like around the hospital. I dunno, I can’t stand sitting here anymore, man.”</p><p>Eddie ran a hand through his hair again, glancing behind him. He had actually been here before, during his residency. “Yeah, sure. There’s a pretty nice courtyard if you’re up to it.”</p><p>Richie groaned in happiness, tipping his head back. “Oh my god, I never thought I’d be so excited about a courtyard. Yes, please.”</p><p>As he went through the process of getting out of the bed, Eddie spotted what he remembered to be Richie’s leather jacket hanging over a chair. With Richie looking the other way, he darted a hand out, putting the check in the jacket’s pocket before stepping quickly away again.</p><p>Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the mature talking-things-over that Eddie had intended but it would prevent another argument. Eddie could live with being sneaky.</p><p>“Ready?” Richie asked.</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>The nurse let them go with little fuss and Eddie suddenly found himself walking next to Richie Tozier down a hospital hallway. He was much taller standing up, Eddie thought a bit begrudgingly. He looked pale in this light, hair dark.</p><p>“You familiar with this hospital?” Richie asked conversationally.</p><p>Eddie realized he had been staring and looked away before Richie could notice, giving a little shrug. “I’ve been here before.”</p><p>Richie quirked an eyebrow at him. “Okaaaay,” he said when Eddie didn’t elaborate. “Do you just go hang out in random hospitals or…?”</p><p>But that was when they rounded a corner and Eddie spotted Claudia Cabrerro coming down the hallway.</p><p>“Goddamit,” he muttered to himself.</p><p>Richie was giving him a look. “What?”</p><p>But it was too late. Claudia had already spotted him and gave a half-wave as they approached each other. Eddie couldn’t turn around and leave, he would look crazy. So he just planted what he hoped was a polite smile on his face and continued walking forward.</p><p>“Hello, Dr. Cabrerro,” he greeted once they were crossing paths with her.</p><p>“Dr. Kaspbrak,” Claudia said, stopping short. Eddie felt Richie halt next to him and heard him take a sharp intake of breath. Shit. No way he didn’t catch the doctor thing. Claudia glanced around her surroundings as if reassuring herself of where she was. “What…?”</p><p>“I’m visiting my, uh,” Eddie jabbed a thumb in Richie’s direction, “...friend?”</p><p>He didn’t mean to end that with a question mark. He heard Richie snort. He saw Caludia seem to register that she recognized who Richie was before blinking hard.</p><p>“I didn’t know you were friends with…” She seemed lost again.</p><p>“Famous people?” Richie interjected, smiling. Eddie shot him an annoyed look which he ignored. “You know our Eddie, he’s never one to brag.”</p><p>Claudia let out an incredulous laugh, seeming charmed. Great. “No, he certainly isn’t.” She appeared thrown for another moment before turning back to Eddie, who seemed to be (relatively) safer territory. “So you’re not working here now?” she asked, putting on a mock worried tone.</p><p>Eddie sighed internally because he knew she was only half-joking. “Don’t worry, I’m sticking to the Center. I won’t be,” he waggled his fingers in a way that he hoped came across as playful but her strained smile told him otherwise, “encroaching on your territory.”</p><p>She gave a faint laugh. “Hah. Well, I better be off. Good to see you.” She looked at Richie again, continuing to seem baffled. “And to meet you. Bye!”</p><p>She made her exit down the hallway and Eddie leaned into the wall, sagging.</p><p>“She seems nice,” Richie chirped before turning to Eddie. “Question: is putting people at ease the last thing they teach in robot school and you wanted to graduate early?”</p><p>Eddie took a deep breath, pushed off the wall and looked Richie right in the eye. As much as he could anyway, with him being a stupidly tall idiot.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he said, tone clipped, “was personal hygiene the last thing they taught at the fucking clown college you failed out of?”</p><p>Richie’s eyes got big but his smile also grew. “Careful, Eddie,” he warned, “this is gonna complicate things if I fall in love with you.”</p><p>Eddie fought a startled laugh that bubbled up, a weird kind of heat crawling up his neck and filling his stomach, before trying to save face by rolling his eyes and starting to walk down the hallway again. There was a brief moment of glorious silence before he glanced over to find Richie still grinning at him.</p><p>“So <em>Doctor</em> Kaspbrak, huh?” he asked, sounding delighted. Eddie groaned. “Why didn’t you say anything? I’m impressed.”</p><p>Eddie sighed through his nose and gave him a look. “Don’t get too excited, I’m an anaesthesiologist.”</p><p>“An anaesthesiologist?” Richie replied, a bit awed. “Holy shit!” He snapped his fingers and followed as Eddie started walking again. “That means you can get me drugs, right?” Eddie gave him another look. “Just kidding. Mostly.” He kept studying Eddie, like any part of this was the best part of his day. “Tell me, how does a promising young man get into anaesthesiology these days?”</p><p>“It’s not that interesting,” Eddie said, waving a dismissing hand.</p><p>“Try me,” Richie shot back.</p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes again. “It’s really not.”</p><p>“Come on, humor me,” Richie needled.</p><p>Shaking his head, Eddie gritted his teeth and launched into speech: “Fine, be a guy in medical school, want to be a general practitioner, have a mother and wife who didn’t want you to deal directly with patients because of communicable diseases, go into anaesthesiology, graduate, your mother dies and yet before you get divorced, you end up working for cosmetic surgeons and drugging up fucking rich assholes every day and then continue working there, probably forever.” Blood running hot, Eddie pushed through the doors, finally at the fucking courtyard.</p><p>“There. I told you. Not interesting.”</p><p>He turned to find Richie regarding him, a smaller smile on his face now - not the goading, irritating smirk but something far softer and more sincere. Eddie stopped walking.</p><p>“I disagree,” Richie said. “You know how many anaesthesiologists I know? Hell, do you know how many people I know that know anaesthesiologists?” Eddie blinked at him. “I now know one, and now I know your two weird friends who know one. That’s it. Do you know how many people I know can even spell anaesthesiologist? I’m guessing… one.” He pointed at Eddie.</p><p>Eddie made a helpless gesture. “That doesn’t make it interesting.”</p><p>“Au contraire,” Richie corrected, smile turning brighter. “It’s very interesting. I don’t think you couldn’t be interesting if you tried.” He took a step toward Eddie. “You, Eddie Kaspbrak, are <em>terminally interesting</em>.”</p><p>Eddie huffed, incredulous, but something small and pleased preened inside of him. “Sure.”</p><p>Richie took two more long steps into Eddie’s personal bubble and Eddie felt himself freeze, staring up at the other man. The hygiene jab notwithstanding, Eddie begrudgingly found himself acknowledging that Richie smelled pretty nice, if a bit hospital-y. Eddie tried to pin down what it was. Cloves? In spite of this, something rankled in him when Richie stared down at him, being so audacious as to flaunt their height difference so Eddie tried to jut his chin out, defiant.</p><p>Richie, confusingly, looked a bit charmed.</p><p>“I <em>am</em> sure,” he finally said, voice quiet.</p><p>Something electric ran up and down Eddie’s spine and he fought a shiver. The corner of his mouth twitched, fighting a smile.</p><p>“If you say so.”</p><p>Richie’s eyes crinkled. They just stood there, staring at each other, a strange urge to sway forward cresting in Eddie until he felt a sudden wave of unease, glancing around the courtyard to make sure no one else was there and put off by their weird standoff. Whatever it was. When he glanced back, Richie had backed up and was smiling again, only it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes.</p><p>“Nice courtyard but it’s kinda boring, let’s go back to the room.” He turned and went back to the door leading inside, leaving Eddie to hurry and follow. “Maybe they’ll let me go home tonight.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Eddie said back, voice faint. “Maybe.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'd like to point out that I spelled anesthesiologist correctly the VERY FIRST TRY when I was writing this so if people can give me kudos just for that, I would greatly appreciate it</p><p>let me know if I should make a playlist for this</p><p> <br/>hit me up on tumblr or twitter, where I bring absolutely nothing to the table:<br/>https://fullofbeansandspunk.tumblr.com/<br/>https://twitter.com/shwahaha</p><p> </p><p>(In my head, the nurse is played by my Aunt Karen. She would not like the fact that she's in this.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. We are far too young and clever (aka What’s a Little Mutual Stalking Between Friends?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sometimes you have to approach someone directly and sometimes you have to get their information from their friends and start some shit.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Everything is stressful so have another shorter chapter!</p><p> </p><p>I'll be updating every few days</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Richie</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Richie was home and torn.</p><p>He had finally been released and got back to his apartment only to find a fucking check in his jacket pocket. He let out a groan and looked to the heavens when he realized who it was from.</p><p>Was he impressed? A bit.</p><p>Okay, a lot.</p><p>He didn’t think that Eddie had it in him to be sneaky. Was he annoyed? Yes, but less than he should be.</p><p>He was mostly just charmed and fighting a strange heartsick feeling.</p><p>The guy had been married. To a woman.</p><p><em>Yes</em>, the stupidly hopeful gay voice in his head supplied, <em>but he divorced that woman.</em></p><p>He was probably straight. He definitely didn’t like Richie, of all people.</p><p><em>Unless</em>… the traitorous voice sang.</p><p>He huffed out a sigh, studying the check again. Eddie’s handwriting was frantic, slanted. It wasn’t as neat as Richie had guessed it would be. Not that he had been thinking about Eddie’s handwriting. That would be weird.</p><p>He stared at the check for a long moment before delicately placing it on his coffee table, grabbing a pillow from his couch, pressing it to his face and letting out a deep primal scream.</p><p>He put it to the side. Took a deep breath.</p><p>Okay, that felt better.</p><p>He just needed more data, right?</p><p>He looked at his phone, considering. Two could play at the sneaky game.</p><p>His manager picked up on the fourth ring.</p><p>“Hey, Steve,” he said, tapping his foot. “I need you to set up an appointment for me.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Truth be told, he felt slightly bad when the secretary led him into the office, announcing that Ben’s 10 AM appointment was here. Apparently his architecture firm was used to taking celebrity clients that wanted to remain as anonymous as possible for various reasons.</p><p>He looked massively underprepared for that celebrity being Richie.</p><p>“Hi, Ben!” he said, loud and brash and bright.</p><p>The secretary faltered, looking between them. “You two know each other?”</p><p>Ben took a deep breath before planting a smile on his face. “Kind of. I’ve got it from here, Sylvia.”</p><p>Ben’s expression turned pained. “Why do I get the feeling that you don’t actually want me to design a house for you?”</p><p>Richie gave a shrug. “I mean, you <em>could</em> if you wanted to but I think your efforts might be wasted on me.” He stared at the far wall, considering. “Unless you specialize in secret passages. Then I might be down.”</p><p>Ben narrowed his eyes. “No,” he said simply. His forehead crinkled. “Anyway, not that it isn’t good to see you but what are you doing here then?”</p><p>Richie chewed his lip. “Can we sit?”</p><p>There was a comfortable-looking couch in the middle of the office and a few photos on the walls, making it feel a bit more like a living room than an office. He was making his way to the couch when he stopped short, spotting one photo in particular. It looked like it had been taken at a high school graduation and Richie broke into a grin when he recognized one of the faces.</p><p>“Oh my God, is that Eddie?” he asked, delighted as he pointed at the sullen boy in the photo.</p><p>He had a graduation cap crammed onto his head and he looked extremely peeved about having his picture taken. Ben gave him a bemused look, joining him to examine the picture.</p><p>“Yeah. His mom took that.” He sheepishly pointed to the pudgy boy who had an arm thrown around Eddie’s shoulders. “And that’s me.”</p><p>Richie peered at the picture, blinking when he could spot the resemblance. He looked between it and Ben’s current face.</p><p>“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Good job growing up.”</p><p>Ben flushed, letting out a quiet laugh before gesturing to the couch. Richie begrudgingly tore himself away, fighting the urge to search for more pictures of baby Eddie.</p><p>“So what’s up?” Ben asked, once they were situated.</p><p>“I wanted your advice,” Richie said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Eddie gave me a check. For the whole accident thing.”</p><p>Ben looked confused. “What? When?”</p><p>“He came and saw me again last week before I was discharged. I think he snuck it into my jacket pocket when I wasn’t looking since I told him I didn’t want it.” Ben blinked, apparently caught off guard. Interesting. “What, he didn’t tell you he came and saw me?”</p><p>Ben gave a little shake of his head. “No,” he replied, slightly faint. “Though, to be fair, we told him not to bug you about trying to give you any money,” he added, rueful. “So I’m not that shocked he didn’t tell me but I’m kind of impressed that he was that bold.”</p><p>Richie let out a snort. “He’s plenty bold alright.” He bit his lip. “I don’t wanna, like, overstep but I wanted your advice. How do I just…” He held up his hands. “Get him to chill out about it?”</p><p>Ben barked out a laugh before clapping his hand over his mouth.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said, a little embarrassed, “but that’s basically impossible.”</p><p>Richie let out a frustrated grunt. “I was worried you’d say that. I just don’t -” Richie ran his hands through his hair, bouncing his knee. “I don’t want him to feel bad about it!”</p><p>Ben gave him an assessing look. “He did hit you with his car,” he replied, reasonably.</p><p>“Why does everyone keep bringing that up?” Richie grumbled, crossing his arms.</p><p>“Because it kind of bears saying,” Ben said, smile back on his face. “Not that we don’t appreciate how cool you’ve been about it. Thanks for that, by the way.” He shook his head. “Eddie would have probably lost his shit beating himself up if it had been any worse or if you were an asshole about it.”</p><p>“He did save my life,” Richie reasoned, shrugging. He felt itchy from the praise. It wasn’t really earned. “Like I know he doesn’t see it that way but he made up for it as far as I’m concerned. He did fucking CPR on me.” He jostled his leg, glancing up to find Ben studying him. “So, uh, no pointers on getting him to stop feeling guilty?”</p><p>Ben gave him a soft smile. “No.” He sighed. “That’s almost harder than getting him to let something go.” He shrugged, trying to give Richie an encouraging smile. “I guess you could try to just rip up the check and leave him alone. He <em>might</em> forget about it.”</p><p>Something about Ben’s face told him that this scenario was also unlikely.</p><p>“Hmm,” Richie hummed. “Leave him alone.” He scratched his stubble, thinking. “Speaking of leaving him alone, what hospital does he work at?”</p><p>Ben froze and stared at him for a long moment. Richie tried to give him his best, innocent smile. The other man finally sagged, rubbing a hand across his forehead.</p><p>“You can never tell him I did this for you,” he warned, grabbing a piece of note paper and a pen.</p><p>“I will take it to the grave,” Richie confirmed, sitting on the edge of his seat. “Also his schedule, if you know it.”</p><p>Ben gave him another considering look.</p><p>Richie tried to smile. “I might be looking into, uh, getting some work done.” Ben frowned. “Plastic surgery is really popular amongst comics these days.”</p><p>Ben made a face. Okay, so he wasn’t buying Richie’s bullshit.</p><p>Ben stared down at the pen in his hands. “I don’t know if I should.” He looked Richie up and down. “You could murder him.”</p><p>Richie snorted. “Like I could take that little jackal. He’s terrifying.”</p><p>Shaking his head, Ben gave him a bemused smile and wrote down the requested information.</p><p>“This is probably a huge mistake.”</p><p>Pushing his luck, Richie grinned. “Wanna jot down your number while you’re at it?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows, already knowing the answer.</p><p>Ben shakily halted writing and looked up at him, eyes wide. “I, uh…” he trailed off, face going beet red. “That’s, um, that’s flattering but I - I’m straight.”</p><p>Richie gave him a reassuring smile.</p><p>“No worries. Although my friend Bev is single, so, like, I could try to make that shit happen.”</p><p>Ben’s face went blank. “Beverly Marsh?” he asked, faint. “Why…?”</p><p>“You’re both hot,” Richie said simply. “Makes sense.” Ben looked like he had no idea how to respond to that but, with a moment’s hesitation, he jotted down his number. Richie grinned. “But, uh, just out of curiosity and since I’m doing you a favor…”</p><p>Ben gave him a suspicious look and held up the piece of paper containing all the information Richie had requested. “Is this not a favor?”</p><p>“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Richie said in a rush, chewing his lip. Ben regarded him before gesturing, as if saying <em>go on</em>. “What, uh, what’s Eddie’s deal? Just out of curiosity.”</p><p>Ben’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know if…”</p><p>Richie waved a hand. “Hey, yeah, no worries, forget I asked.” He realized he was tapping his foot at a rapid rate and stood. “Listen, thanks for talking with me. And for this,” he added, gesturing to the paper. “I really do appreciate it.”</p><p>Ben, who was still sitting, looked up at him, assessing. He offered the paper but didn’t let go when Richie grabbed it.</p><p>“Please don’t murder him or make him murder you,” he said, serious, before releasing it.</p><p>Richie let out a nervous laugh.</p><p>“Right, of course,” he chuckled as he folded the paper and put it in his pocket. “Thank you. See you later.”</p><p>Ben gave him a nod.</p><p>Richie was almost out the door when he heard Ben let out a frustrated noise and call his name. Richie turned to find him walking towards him, a look of indecision on his face.</p><p>“Okay, this isn’t really my thing to tell you but I want to anyway,” he started, rubbing his bicep. “I feel like... “ He met Richie’s eyes. “I trust you, for some reason. With Eddie.”</p><p>Richie blinked at him.</p><p>“Truth be told, I don’t know what his ‘deal’ is. His deal might literally be nothing. He was married but he never really dated anyone else or really expressed an interest and I don’t know if he ever even <em>liked</em> Myra.”</p><p>Ah, Myra must be the ex-wife.</p><p>He fixed Richie with an intense stare.</p><p>“He’s a good person. He’s a complex person. He’s difficult and angry but I would kill for him.”</p><p>Richie cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. “I don’t doubt it,” he replied, quiet.</p><p>Ben gave him a smile. “I’ve wondered about him, before, but I can’t confirm anything.” He made a helpless face, shaking his head. “But just, like, don’t give up on him, is what I’m saying. There might be something there.”</p><p>They stared at each other for a moment.</p><p>“Okay,” Richie finally said.</p><p>Ben reached out and shook his hand.</p><p>“Oh, and Mike would also kill for him so, you know,” he did a finger gun with his other hand while winking, “watch your back!”</p><p>Richie let out a nervous chuckle.</p><p>“If I hurt him, you hurt me - got it.” He turned to go before turning back and adding a sincere, “Thank you.”</p><p>Then he was out the door.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Eddie</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eddie was going to murder Richie.</p><p>There was a giant flower arrangement in the arms of the security guard, who looked terrified. Several of his coworkers had already left, having failed to quell their laughter.</p><p>The basket the flowers were in had the words “FROM RICHIE TOZIER” in giant letters written on it.</p><p>“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered, face in his hands.</p><p>“Uh, Dr. Kaspbrak, are you going to take these or…?” Joe asked, holding the basket out and wincing like Eddie was going to explode.</p><p>Eddie let a long breath out of his nose.</p><p>“Thank you, Joe,” he muttered through gritted teeth.</p><p>He snatched the basket. Joe scuttled off.</p><p>Dr. Miller was the only one brave enough to approach him. “Those are some nice flowers, Kaspbrak,” she said, stifling a smile. “I wasn’t aware that Mr. Tozier was one of our patients.”</p><p>Eddie gave a miserable shake of his head. “He’s not.”</p><p>“Then how do you know him?” she asked.</p><p>Eddie shot her a cold look. “I unfortunately failed to kill him. Excuse me.” He didn’t bother to wait for her shocked response as he stalked towards his office, banging the door shut behind him.</p><p>“You son of bitch,” he muttered at the flowers. They were all red roses and pink lilies and daisies and… were those orchids?</p><p>“Oh my God,” he moaned, despairing. “I’m going to actually murder him.”</p><p>He opened the note card. It simply said:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Your move, bitch! xoxoxo Richie</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Another folded piece of paper fell out and as Eddie unfolded it, he cursed again.</p><p>Inside, he saw what appeared to be the check he had written, ripped into tiny pieces and glued into the shape of a crude heart.</p><p>“Holy shit, he’s actually insane,” Eddie breathed. He was slightly horrified to find that he almost sounded… excited?</p><p>“Fine, you crazy motherfucker,” he muttered to himself, pulling out his phone. He googled Richie’s name, grinning when he found the information he was looking for.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The guy at the front door looked very skeptical when Eddie presented the box to him.</p><p>“What’s this?” he drawled.</p><p>“It’s a gift,” Eddie sniffed, shifting in his spot.</p><p>The bouncer narrowed his eyes. “You some kind of super-fan?”</p><p>“Ugh.” Eddie wrinkled his nose. “<em>No</em>. It’s literally just a present. Is that a problem?”</p><p>“Depends,” the bouncer said. “Is it a bomb?”</p><p>Eddie scoffed. “Do I look like I know how to make a bomb?”</p><p>The guy gave him a once-over. “You really want the answer to that question?”</p><p>Eddie sighed. “You can tell him it’s from Eddie. Then he can throw it out if he wants to.”</p><p>The man sighed and said, “I’ll see what I can do. You coming in?”</p><p>Eddie glanced up at the marquee. “Aren't I too late? It’s fine. I don’t have to.”</p><p>The guy shrugged. “I don’t give a shit. It’s $20.”</p><p>Eddie chewed his lip before going into his wallet, his curiosity getting the better of him.</p><p>“Fine, yeah, okay.”</p><p>It wasn’t a terrible club, if a bit smokey and on the older side. Once he was through the main entrance, he could vaguely hear the sound of people laughing. As he cracked open the door and snuck his way inside, creeping through the crowd and keeping his head low, his eyes found the stage and he saw Richie on the microphone.</p><p>“I really thought once I came out, shit would be easier but there are all these <em>rules</em>, you know?” Richie was complaining, roaming around the stage. “Like I thought the hardest part would be coming out of the closet but now there are all these complex rituals don’t fucking understand. It’s like going through puberty but I’m 40.” He let out a sigh. “I better not hit another growth spurt.”</p><p>Eddie found a seat and was getting situated when he heard Richie falter. “I literally, uh, barely survived the first one. I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I just saw a guy sneaking in late.”</p><p>Eddie felt his stomach sink, looking up to see Richie squinting right at him. It wasn’t a very big club. He saw the exact moment that Richie clocked who he was, a small smirk growing on his face.</p><p>“He threw me off my groove,” he continued. “Hey, here’s an idea: everyone, look at the late guy!” He gestured Eddie’s way. “Oh, wait, Jimmy - get a light on him!”</p><p>That’s when a spotlight swung away from Richie and fell directly on Eddie. He shrank into his seat and saw Richie shade his eyes from the stagelight as he grinned, apparently his suspicions officially confirmed.</p><p>“Yes, there he is! A very late man! One of the Tardy Boys! Hey, why are you so late?”</p><p>Eddie cleared his throat. Everyone was tittering. “I, uh -”</p><p>“Oh sorry, I can’t hear you because you don’t have a microphone,” Richie cut him off, obnoxiously patronizing. “It was probably boring anyway. Everyone: mock the late man!”</p><p>Richie then started chanting “Late! Late! Late!” while everyone else joined in, Eddie sinking even further into his chair.</p><p>Richie finally waved a hand, shushing everyone.</p><p>“Okay, that’s enough of that. Sorry, tardy boy, it’s just not often that I get to try to whip up a mob. I got drunk with power.” He gestured vaguely into the air. “I’m sure you understand. Jimmy, lights back on the prize!” The light swung back onto Richie, leaving Eddie in glorious darkness.</p><p>“Anyway, is anyone here the ugly friend in your crew?” There were a few shocked laughs from the crowd at the change of topic. “I don’t know why I said crew. That makes it sound like I’m on a dance team. I’m not. I mean, I could be, I have moves and I was promised that that came standard issue with being gay, but I’m not. Does anyone know anyone who’s looking for a 6’4” middle-aged guy who is in terrible shape to join their dance squad? Hook me up.</p><p>“But yeah, somehow I just keep being friends with hot people. I attract them, like honey to a fly. At first I liked it because it felt like it sort of spoke highly of me but now I feel like their hotness is outstripping my fame, when people see us out. Like yeah, I’ve been on Netflix, but all of my hot friends are also there and everyone wants to see them naked so suddenly, I’m chopped liver.”</p><p>It went on like that for a while and Eddie even found himself laughing on occasion. It was more often than he would ever admit to Richie. It was kind of fun and novel, seeing him in his element.</p><p>Once things wrapped up, Eddie hung around the side-door where a half-dozen fans were also waiting. They all had shit for Richie to sign. He spotted a few of them giggling and pointing Eddie’s way, obviously recognizing him.</p><p>“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself.</p><p>Richie finally exited, looking sweaty and a little tired but he stopped short when he noticed Eddie. He then broke out into a giant grin but still signed the various items thrust his way, taking a few selfies, before bidding farewell and loping Eddie’s way.</p><p>“Oh, hey, do I know you?” Richie asked before snapping his fingers. “Oh riiiiight, you were the guy who was late!”</p><p>He threw back his head and cackled.</p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks for that,” he drawled. “I thought comedians were supposed to be funny.”</p><p>Richie pressed a hand to his chest. “Ouch, my pride.” He then dropped the hand and the silly smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “But seriously, what are you doing here?”</p><p>Eddie shrugged. “I figured if you could stalk me at my work, I could stalk you at yours.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?” Richie said, faux nonchalant. “Are you sure it wasn’t because of the giant dildo you had waiting for me after the show with a note that said ‘go fuck yourself’ on it?”</p><p>He then pulled out the check that Eddie had included in his gift from his pocket, gleefully shredding it into tiny pieces and throwing them into the air, like confetti.</p><p>Eddie deflated. “You really shouldn’t litter,” he grumbled.</p><p>“Surprise, bitch,” Richie said, leaning into his space. “You done played yourself.” He stepped back and Eddie frowned at how bereft he felt in the moment. “If you think I’m not gonna try to use that thing, you got another thing coming.”</p><p>Eddie’s breath stuttered in his chest as he attempted to quell whatever images were trying to coalesce in his mind.</p><p>Instead, he sneered. “Well, I <em>did</em> tell you to fuck yourself. Maybe it was just two apology gifts,” he snarked. “Did you ever think of that?”</p><p>Richie looked delighted. “How thoughtful.” He then licked his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets. “But, I gotta ask - why’d you pick a workshopping night?” he asked, jiggling his leg.</p><p>Eddie paused, blinking at him. Was he upset?</p><p>“Workshopping?”</p><p>Richie waved a hand. “It’s when you work out your material. You play small clubs to hone your jokes before you have gigs at bigger venues.” He looked at Eddie expectantly.</p><p>“It was the first show of yours that I found,” Eddie said honestly.</p><p>“Ah, okay.” Richie chewed his lip and scratched a hand along his stubble, Eddie tracking the movements. “It’s just - that wasn’t even my good shit. That’s like if I came to your job and watched you, like, experiment with drugging people and only had it work half the time.”</p><p>Eddie cocked his head. “How exactly do you think anaesthesiology works?”</p><p>“Not the point!” Richie exclaimed. “My point is, that wasn’t… that wasn’t really good. It was fine but like, you should see a real show sometime.”</p><p>Eddie regarded him. Holy shit, was Richie embarrassed of his set? “What makes you think I thought it wasn’t good?”</p><p>Richie scoffed. “I dunno, it was workshopping. That shit is never good.”</p><p>Eddie gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I mean, I don’t know anything about comedy because who cares but... I thought it was pretty good.”</p><p>Richie narrowed his eyes. “<em>You</em> thought <em>I</em> was <em>funny</em>?” he asked, incredulous.</p><p>“Minus the part where you got the crowd to turn on me.” Eddie shrugged again. “Yeah. Plus I got to see you do your thing and that was, you know...” he trailed off, his neck hot.</p><p>Richie gave him a considering look, a small smile on his face.</p><p>“You’re a very surprising guy sometimes, Eddie Kaspbrak.” He gave him a once over and shook his head. “Are you free to, like, get a drink or…?”</p><p>“Shit,” Eddie muttered, looking at his watch. “It’s kind of late and I have surgery tomorrow.” He bit his lip. “I better not. Sorry.”</p><p>Richie blinked. “Surgery, wow.” He cleared his throat and waved a dismissive hand. “No, yeah, that’s cool, that’s fine, no worries.” He shrugged. “It’s fine.”</p><p>Eddie couldn’t help the small smirk that grew on his face. “Are you sure it’s fine? I’m not sure if you -”</p><p>Richie barked out a laugh. “Get the fuck out of here, Kaspbrak. Go get your beauty rest.”</p><p>Eddie ducked his head and turned to go but, in a moment of compulsion, turned to Richie one last time before he went back inside.</p><p>“Richie?”</p><p>Richie stopped in the doorframe. “Yeah?”</p><p>“Drop the part about being the ugly friend.” Eddie smiled at the slightly shocked expression on Richie’s face. Emboldened, he added, “People are gonna think you’re trying to win points with false modesty.”</p><p>He smirked and turned to go as Richie gaped at him.</p><p>“Wait!” Richie called after him. “Eddie, are you calling me hot?”</p><p>“Goodnight, Richie!” Eddie said over his shoulder.</p><p>Eddie couldn’t help but smile as he walked away, Richie’s desperate plea of, “<em>Eddie, are you saying I’m hot?</em>” following him into the night.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don’t think Richie’s gonna get an answer to that question anytime soon</p><p> </p><p>Also here’s a little tip-aroonie from me to you - if you’re ever dealing with a character who’s a comedian and you don’t feel like being funny, write a workshopping night! Bingo bango, you’ve a scene with comedy where you barely need to write jokes</p><p>I’ve been to quite a few and trust me, they’re pretty rough! </p><p>you can find me on tumblr or twitter, where I reblog memes and post surrealist existential jokes respectively:<br/>https://fullofbeansandspunk.tumblr.com/<br/>https://twitter.com/shwahaha</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind  (aka Things Get Awkward)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Richie invites himself to an event, Beverly tries to help, and things go about as well as anyone could have expected.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Richie</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>When Richie spotted Eddie coming out of the elevators, he watched as a look of befuddled recognition crossed Eddie’s face before he halted in his tracks and hung his head, letting out a deep resigned sigh. After a moment, he begrudgingly headed Richie’s way, footsteps loud in the lobby.</p><p>“Do I even want to know how you know where I live?” Eddie asked, wary.</p><p>“Eds,” Richie said, hand on his heart. He didn’t miss how Eddie wrinkled his nose at the nickname. “I’m a very important man with very impressive connections.” At Eddie’s incredulous look, Richie shrugged. “That plus your friend Hot Ben is very easy to sway.” He paused before adding a hasty, “Don’t tell him that we call him Hot Ben.”</p><p>Eddie scowled.</p><p>“Goddamnit, Ben,” he muttered.</p><p>“Don’t be mad at Ben, he’s coming from a good place. He’s told me not to murder you multiple times.”</p><p>He actually had. His texts to Richie had been very clear. Richie had told him he was sending Eddie a care package but hadn’t specified that the care package was, in fact, Richie himself.</p><p>Eddie rubbed his temples. He looked cute when he was frustrated.</p><p>“Why are you here exactly?”</p><p>Richie smiled down at him. He might have been standing a bit too close. Looming. But he could tell Eddie found the fact that he was taller annoying, even if he didn’t say it. Eddie frowned a little harder.</p><p>“I came by to see if you wanted to get coffee,” Richie replied diplomatically. Casually. Like coming to someone’s building when they didn’t think he knew where they lived just to get coffee was a totally chill thing he did all the time.</p><p>Eddie’s forehead creased.</p><p>“And you couldn’t fucking text me like a normal person?” he asked, seeming genuinely confused but not exactly like he questioned Richie’s motives.</p><p>Score.</p><p>“You never gave me your number, Eddie.”</p><p>“Oh,” Eddie spat, “pardon me for thinking the guy who knows where I work and where I live might have also gotten my number by bribing one of my friends.” He crossed his arms. “Speaking of, did you give him something for the information?”</p><p>Richie tried to flash his most winning smile. “The promise that I’d show you a good time?” Eddie’s expression was thunderous. Richie felt himself sagging a bit. “That and I put him and Bev in contact,” he added.</p><p>“Son of a bitch,” Eddie muttered to himself before striding away from Richie.</p><p>Richie’s heart sank. “So I guess that’s a no to coffee?” he called out as he hastily followed Eddie.</p><p>“I came down to get my mail so I’m getting my fucking mail,” Eddie snapped over his shoulder. He glanced Richie’s way, expression softening a bit, though he was still frowning. “But I’ll go get coffee with you, you fucking weirdo.”</p><p>Richie grinned at him and watched as he fiddled with his key at the boxes, opening his mailbox and pulling out a few things.</p><p>“So do you do this often?” Eddie asked as he looked through his mail. Richie gave him a questioning look. “Stalk people?”</p><p>Richie tapped his foot and bit the inside of his cheek, feeling slightly caught out.</p><p>“Nah,” he said nonchalantly. “You’re an exception.” He crossed his arms. “Usually I just hunt people for sport.”</p><p>Eddie snorted and Richie felt inordinately pleased. Eddie turned to start walking, shoving the mail into the bag slung over his shoulder when he froze as he spotted one particular envelope.</p><p>“Goddamnit,” he muttered to himself, opening it.</p><p>“Bad news?” Richie asked, concerned.</p><p>Eddie sighed as he read what was inside.</p><p>“Yes,” he grunted. “It’s a reunion.” His expression was cloudy.</p><p>“Ooh,” Richie sang, “a reunion! What type of reunion?”</p><p>“The type I’m not going to.” Eddie gave him a sharp look and sighed when Richie just smiled encouragingly. “Undergrad. It’s fucking stupid. Mike can’t go so I’m sure as fuck not going.” He stuffed the card in his bag and started walking towards the doors again. “Come on, there’s a place down the road I like.”</p><p>As they made their way to the coffee shop, Richie let the other man stew in silence for a solid 40 seconds before he couldn’t handle it anymore.</p><p>“Soooo,” he started and Eddie sighed again. “I take it college was a bad time then?”</p><p>Eddie wrinkled his nose. Richie found he liked this expression a lot. He looked like an angry little badger.</p><p>“No,” Eddie said. “College was fine.”</p><p>“But Mike was your only friend?” Richie guessed. Eddie shot him a look, only it was slightly more bemused this time. “You got drunk and ran naked through campus and it’s too embarrassing to go back?” Richie tried. Eddie rolled his eyes and Richie snapped his fingers. “I know! You had a torrid affair with a professor but then they died under <em>mysterious circumstances</em> and you’re worried the dean hired a private investigator and this reunion is just a ruse to interrogate you?”</p><p>At that, Eddie barked out a short laugh before putting his face in his hands. Richie felt like he was lit up from the inside like a Christmas tree. That was an actual laugh, a real one.</p><p>Fucking delightful.</p><p>“No,” Eddie groaned, a small smile on his face. “Nothing like that. I had friends,” he added, slightly defensive. “It’s just…” he rubbed a hand over his eyes. “My ex-wife will probably be there.”</p><p>Richie let out a low whistle. “Ah, I see.” Eddie had stopped and Richie glanced up to see a sign for a coffee shop. Without thinking, he stepped forward and opened the door for the other man, bowing. “After you.”</p><p>Eddie gave him a little exasperated half-smile (score again) and went inside. As they waited in line, Richie bounced on his heels.</p><p>“Don’t you kind of want to go to show off how successful you are now?”</p><p>Eddie shot him a side-eye, snorting. “No. What the fuck do I care?”</p><p>Richie smiled at him. “Come on, isn’t that everyone’s dream?” He bumped Eddie’s shoulder with his own, catching how the other man blinked and frowned down at where they had touched, but he didn’t move away from where Richie was now standing closer to him. “I’m sure you’ve got some good stories about drugging famous people.”</p><p>An elderly woman in front of them turned to give them the stink-eye. Eddie shot her an apologetic look before turning his own stink-eye on Richie.</p><p>“Will you shut the fuck up?” Eddie muttered at him.</p><p>“Come on,” Richie cajoled him. “Who’s the most famous person you’ve knocked out?”</p><p>The old lady tsked at them.</p><p>Eddie gave her an apologetic smile before turning his badger face on Richie, stepping even more into Richie’s space to glare up at him.</p><p>“It’s gonna be you pretty soon if you don’t shut that stupid garbagecan you call a mouth,” he hissed.</p><p>Richie had been right - Eddie <em>was</em> a feral gremlin.</p><p>Fucking. Delightful.</p><p>“Careful, Eddie,” Richie warned, grinning and giving Eddie a once-over. “Or you’re gonna get me arrested for a lewd public act.”</p><p>Eddie made a despairing nose and stepped back, scrubbing his red face with his hands. “I feel like someone made you in a lab,” he grumbled. “It’s like you were scientifically designed to aggravate me.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Richie said, bouncing on his heels again. “Except it’s really not that challenging.”</p><p>They put in their orders. Eddie with a redeye and Richie with a mocha mint frappe. Once they got their drinks, Eddie eyed his.</p><p>“How the fuck can you drink that?” he asked, disgusted, as Richie took a loud slurp. “I can feel the diabetes just by looking at it.”</p><p>“Well, I’m not sure that amount of caffeine is safe for someone your size,” Richie said back, full of mock concern. “Both for your own health and for the general population.” Eddie scowled at him. “You know those angry little lemmings?” Richie continued because something wouldn’t let him stop. “I’m picturing one of those but if you gave it, like, a Big Gulp full of Surge.”</p><p>“I’m definitely scarier if I haven’t had caffeine,” Eddie advised, taking a prim sip of his own drink.</p><p>“Oh fuck,” Richie laughed, “Eddie Kaspbrak in a full-on caffeine withdrawal?” He fake shuddered. “You might take out half the city.”</p><p>Eddie chuckled and Richie had to go back to his drink so he could pretend he wasn’t having heart palpitations. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. Little scraps of laughter and he was ready to fucking grovel. Insane.</p><p>“So the main reason you don’t wanna go is your ex-wife?” he blurted out before mentally kicking himself a little bit</p><p>Eddie blinked and then seemed to realize what Richie was talking about. His forehead crinkled, probably wondering why the fuck Richie cared so much.</p><p>“Are you still in love with her or something?” Richie joked, cringing when it came out a little more desperate than he had intended.</p><p>Eddie gave him an odd look but scoffed. “No,” he said, extremely sure. “But she will talk to me if I go and she’s…” Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s a lot.”</p><p>“So you need someone to run interference,” Richie said, a very stupid plan forming in his very stupid brain. He took a sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair and shrugging, hoping it came across as nonchalant. “I could go with you.”</p><p>Eddie boggled at him. “You wanna go to some stupid reunion with me?” he asked, doubtful, like Richie was crazy. Which he was but Eddie didn’t have to be so judgemental about it.</p><p>Richie started bouncing his knee, shrugging again. “Yeah, sure. It could be fun.”</p><p>Eddie stared at him. “Why?”</p><p>Richie tapped his fingers on the table. “When do I get the chance to mingle with the finest minds that whatever-school-you-went-to has to offer?”</p><p>Eddie seemed to digest this, studying Richie as if his head injury might be persistent.</p><p>“At a reunion for my undergrad class?” he clarified.</p><p>“Yep!” Richie replied, like this was perfectly normal. “This has an added benefit - when you brag about knowing me, people will know for sure that you’re not full of shit.”</p><p>Eddie truly seemed to be at a loss for words.</p><p>“I don’t even…” he started before trailing off. “You’re actually serious?” he asked instead, more sincere and not the brush-off Richie anticipated. There went the heart palpitations again. “Like you actually want to go with me to this thing? It’s going to be boring.”</p><p>“I love boring!” Richie said, throwing his hands out. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”</p><p>Eddie kept staring at him before shaking his head, as if Richie was bewildering but maybe also fascinating, and saying, “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Richie was regretting this.</p><p>“Beverly, you’re a fashion designer,” he griped, “how do you not have more insight?”</p><p>Beverly ran an appraising eye over the shirt he had handed her, a slightly pained expression on her face.</p><p>“Richie, all your clothes either scream ‘drunk uncle’ or ‘unemployed former roadie.’” She tossed the shirt onto his bed. “I don’t know how to work with this.”</p><p>Richie gripped his hands in his hair, pacing.</p><p>“I could ask to borrow something from Bill?” he tried.</p><p>Beverly wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, if you want to look like you just hit a growth spurt last night.” Richie opened his mouth and Beverly cut him off with a look. “Stan, too.”</p><p>“Ugh,” Richie groaned. “Why am I exclusively friends with hobbits?”</p><p>“The real question is,” Beverly said, scooching deeper into his closet, “why don’t you have any clothes that would belong to an actual adult man?”</p><p>Richie pulled harder at his hair. “I’m a comic! I don’t need real clothes.”</p><p>“We wouldn’t have this problem if you’d just let me take you shopping.” Beverly was fully inside his closet now, using her phone’s flashlight to peer through clothes Richie was sure he would have no memory of. “What do you even do about red carpets?” she asked, voice muffled.</p><p>“I rent shit,” Richie explained, starting to pace again.</p><p>Beverly peaked her head out. “Dates?”</p><p>Richie scoffed and shot her a look.</p><p>She snorted and ducked back inside before making a triumphant noise. She re-emerged, a pair of jeans in hand.</p><p>“Do these still fit?”</p><p>Richie squinted at them. “I don’t even know when I got them,” he admitted, holding them up. There were no rips, which was something. They were also a rich blue color which seemed maybe slightly more dressy.</p><p>“<em>I</em> got them,” Beverly clarified, diving back into the closet. “It was during an ill-advised attempt to help clean you up. You had some job interview and refused to let me get you anything that wasn’t jeans.”</p><p>“Oh, right,” Richie replied, faint. That job interview had been for some office drone work. He had bombed it spectacularly. “I might be too fat for them now.”</p><p>“You’ll never know unless you try,” Beverly called out. Man, she was really digging in there. Richie hoped she didn’t find anything too scarring.</p><p>Shrugging, Richie stripped out of his ratty jeans, not minding that Beverly could pop out at any moment and see his naked chicken legs. That embarrassment ship had sailed about twenty years ago.</p><p>“Hmm,” Richie hummed, assessing. They actually kind of fit his waist, which was a miracle. He now remembered that he had been drinking very heavily around the time he was trying to get that job so maybe he had been fatter back then than he had initially remembered. There was a different problem however.</p><p>“I think they’re too short?” Richie called out. “My ankles are showing.” Beverly leaned out, giving him a once-over as Richie showed off his legs. “I’m gonna give some Victorian man a heart attack.”</p><p>Beverly rolled her eyes. “It’s a look, Richie.”</p><p>Richie looked down. “What, hairy naked man ankles?”</p><p>Beverly laughed. “Believe it or not, yes. I think they would work with loafers.” Both of them glanced at the pile of chucks and beat up sneakers on Richie’s floor. Beverly sighed. “Text Bill, I think you guys wear the same shoe size.”</p><p>Richie nodded, pulling out his phone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><b>Richie Tozier</b><br/>
Hey bill-bro do u have any loafers that would fit my feet I have a shoe emergency plz hurry</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em><b>Bill Denbrough</b><br/>
???</em>
</p><p>
  <em><b>Bill Denbrough</b><br/>
I’m in the middle of writing, when do you need them?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em><b>Richie Tozier</b><br/>
ASAP</em>
</p><p>
  <em><b>Richie Tozier</b><br/>
Im bad at planning and it’s an Eddie thing</em>
</p><p> </p><p>There was a pause as Richie saw the “<b>...</b>” for a while before pictures of two different pairs of shoes came through.</p><p>“Hey, Bev, which one of these?” Richie asked, walking to the closet doors and showing the pictures to Beverly as she peeked out once again.</p><p>She made a considering noise. “I think the brown ones with the red soles,” she said, going inside again. “I think they’ll pop.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><b>Richie Tozier</b><br/>
Bev says brown</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em><b>Bill Denbrough</b><br/>
Fine, I’ll be there in 30</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em><b>Richie Tozier</b><br/>
U r a true friend ty for having clown feet &lt;3&lt;3&lt;3</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He got no response. Hopefully Bill wasn’t mad.</p><p>“Richie, turn on your shower,” Beverly called out.</p><p>Without arguing, he went to do so and came back into the room.</p><p>“I already took one earlier,” he advised, “but if you’re saying I stink I respect your opinion.”</p><p>“No, it’s for this,” Beverly explained, coming out. She was holding a dark blue blazer. He considered it against the jeans and realized they might compliment each other.</p><p>“Oh right,” Richie said, excited. “Steve made me get that for my first talk show interview!”</p><p>Beverly went and put the blazer in the bathroom.</p><p>“Yeah but it’s pretty wrinkled. Hopefully the steam will help.” She tapped her chin. “I know for a fact that I got you a button-up shirt before.”</p><p>Richie glanced around his room but he already knew that he had no idea where it was.</p><p>“Right,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. “But it makes me look Amish.”</p><p>Beverly rolled her eyes, bravely starting to go through the pile of clothes on the floor of his closet.</p><p>“Collarless button-ups are stylish,” she pointed out.</p><p>“Right,” Richie agreed, “stylish for Amish people.”</p><p>“Hah!” she crowed, triumphant. She came out, holding the shirt. It was grey. So boring. Richie wrinkled his nose. “You’re <em>going</em> to try it on,” she stated emphatically. “If you really hate it, you can wear a band shirt under the blazer, I guess. Not ideal, but you’re an ‘artist’ so it’ll do.”</p><p>“Or,” Richie said, flashing her a smile, “a <em>Hawaiin</em> shirt underneath.”</p><p>Beverly shot him a dirty look, putting the shirt in the bathroom as well. “No, absolutely not.”</p><p>Richie groaned. “It would be a nice one!”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were avoiding the drunk uncle look?” Beverely asked, hands on her hips.</p><p>Richie shook his head at her sadly. “You truly don’t understand the gay community.” He ran a loving hand over one of his Hawaiin shirts. “And you call yourself an ally.”</p><p>Beverly laughed and went into the bathroom, fiddling around for a minute while Richie scrolled through his phone. Eventually he heard her turn the shower off.</p><p>“Okay, that seems to have done the trick,” she said, coming back into the room. She shoved the shirt into his hands. “Put it on.”</p><p>Richie frowned at it. “I look like a dork in it though,” he whined.</p><p>She gave him a sweet look. “The shirt isn’t what makes you look like a dork,” she simpered at him. “Put it on.”</p><p>Richie sighed and turned, stripping his shirt and putting the button-up on. After he was done, he turned and flapped his arms.</p><p>“There, see? I look Amish.”</p><p>“Tuck it in,” she directed. He sighed but did as he was told. Beverly surveyed him, tapping her chin. “Actually, it looks nice on you. Put on the blazer.”</p><p>“You’re so bossy,” Richie tsked. He shrugged it on. “Okay, did your magic work? Am I suddenly hot?”</p><p>Beverely’s face broke into a bright smile. “Actually, yeah! You look like a human adult that someone might want to see naked.”</p><p>Richie blinked at her. “Wait, really?”</p><p>He walked over to his bedroom mirror. He adjusted his glasses. He looked… well, Richie didn’t think he looked handsome because he never thought he looked handsome but he did look kind of <em>snazzy</em>.</p><p>“Huh,” he said to himself. “Okay, I think… I can admit that maybe I was wrong about the shirt.”</p><p>“Hah!” Beverly crowed. “I fucking told you!” She crossed her arms, smug. “Maybe now you’ll finally let me help you shop every once in a while.”</p><p>That’s when Richie’s phone buzzed and he glanced down at it.</p><p>“Oh, Bill’s here.”</p><p>He frowned at his bare feet and Beverly sighed.</p><p>“I’ll go get him,” she said, patting his arm. “You really should get a buzzer that works!” she called as she went out the front door.</p><p>Richie just hummed and looked in the mirror again.</p><p>Okay, he could probably make this work. Yeah, he was sweaty and pale but he’d actually gotten his hair trimmed so he didn’t look “borderline homeless”, as Stan would usually say. He had even shaved for God’s sake. He glanced at his watch. He had about twenty minutes before he was supposed to meet Eddie at the train.</p><p>He tapped a bare foot on the ground and startled when he heard a knock at the door. Swinging it open, he found Bev and Bill on the other side. Bill’s eyes widened.</p><p>“W-wow,” he said, walking inside and looking Richie up and down. “Look who can clean up when he wants to!” He handed the shoes to Richie who leaned over to start struggling to shove them onto his feet. “Should I be insulted that you’re dressing nicer for this than you did for my wedding?”</p><p>Richie waved a dismissing hand. “I was depressed and deeply closeted, I never dressed nice for anything back then.”</p><p>Bill gave him a sincere smile. “Well, it’s good to know you have the ability.”</p><p>Richie straightened, shifting in the shoes. They weren’t comfortable, probably a little too short for his feet, but he’d live. He found Bev and Bill staring at him and he nervously adjusted the edge of the jacket before pushing his glasses up his nose.</p><p>“Well?” he asked, chewing his lip. “Is it okay?”</p><p>Bill grinned. “If it wasn’t a date already, it might be by the end of the night.”</p><p>Richie felt his neck heat up. “Seriously?”</p><p>Beverly smiled at him. “You look really nice, Richie.”</p><p>Richie felt flustered and pleased and very, very nervous.</p><p>“Okay, stop ogling me,” he said finally, shooing them. “I appreciate the help but I gotta go.”</p><p>Beverly gave him a quick hug. “You’re going to do great. Don’t be nervous.” She bit her lip. “And call me if things…”</p><p>Richie pulled away, waving a dismissing hand. “Yes, <em>mom</em>, I’ll call you to cry if I blow it.”</p><p>Bill shot him a grin. “G-good luck, man,” he said and went out.</p><p>“Love you!” Beverly called as she followed, leaving Richie alone.</p><p>Once he was alone, he grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, leg bouncing the whole time. He shoved a piece of gum into his mouth before just going ahead and shoving the entire pack into his other pocket. Pausing, he went to go look at himself in the mirror again.</p><p>Passable.</p><p>He sighed.</p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When he saw Eddie spot him, he thought maybe he’d made a mistake. The other man frowned, <em>hard</em>, and said nothing when Richie approached him. His forehead was wrinkled like Richie’s outfit required deep thought.</p><p>He was dressed largely the same as normal - regular button-up but it was a nice lilac color and chinos. He was wearing a tie that looked kind of silky and Richie flexed a hand, fighting the urge to touch it. Eddie’s hair was slightly more styled than Richie had seen before, curling at the ends.</p><p>He looked awesome.</p><p>“Hey,” Richie greeted, wincing at how awkward he sounded. “Ready to, uh, go?”</p><p>Eddie seemed at a loss for words. “You look… nice,” he said, almost sounding suspicious.</p><p>Richie nervously looked down.</p><p>“In a bad way?” He fidgeted with the blazer. “Beverly was pretty insistent that this all worked.”</p><p>Eddie shook his head, like he was shaking off water.</p><p>“No, yeah, it does. It looks…” He trailed off and his forehead wrinkled even more. “Wait, you got Beverly to help you?”</p><p>Shit.</p><p>“Uh, yeah, she really wanted to.” Richie waved a vague hand. “She’s always looking for excuses to dress me up! You know how... women are,” he finished lamely.</p><p>Eddie’s expression turned amused. “Do <em>you</em> know how women are?”</p><p>Richie adjusted his glasses. “Uh,” he started before deflating a little and shrugging, “no, not really. Not except for the fact that they’re happy I’m not into them.”</p><p>Eddie snorted, shaking his head and smiling.</p><p>Heart attack city, fuck.</p><p>“Let’s go,” Eddie was saying, heading towards the turnstiles. “Don’t wanna be late.”</p><p>He only sounded slightly rueful and just the tiniest bit like he was regretting this but he returned Richie’s encouraging smile with only a small amount of hesitation so Richie was counting it as a win.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---------------------</p>
  <p>
    <em> <span class="u">Eddie</span> </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>Eddie felt distinctly off-kilter. He didn’t like parties. He didn’t like seeing people. He didn’t like smalltalk or trying to force himself to be polite.</p><p>Why was he even here?</p><p>He shook his head before spying Richie at the bar.</p><p>Right.</p><p>Richie.</p><p>He wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten convinced to come. He was doubly unsure of why <em>Richie</em> wanted to come, except to maybe continue trying to pull at the strings that made up Eddie’s life in an effort to see where they led. To understand him. Or annoy him. It seemed like both.</p><p>Eddie truly didn’t understand why.</p><p>He’d assumed Richie would treat the whole thing as a joke and come dressed like a jackass but then he’d showed up, in a fucking <em>blazer</em> and a stylish button-up and fucking loafers, looking nervous and Eddie was 99% sure he’d gotten a haircut.</p><p>Who cuts their hair for someone else’s reunion?</p><p>Worst of all, the look <em>worked</em> and it bothered Eddie in a way he couldn’t quite pin down.</p><p>“Is it a date?” Mike had asked him when Eddie had explained the situation to him over their weekly lunch.</p><p>Eddie had almost choked on his salad. “What?” he asked, incredulous. “<em>No</em>.”</p><p>Mike just took a very pointed sip of his ice tea.</p><p>“I would know if it was a date,” Eddie insisted. “Mostly because he’d say, ‘hey wanna go on a date with me?’” He waved a hand. “Or he’d ask for my number.”</p><p>Richie had asked for <em>Ben’s</em> number, Eddie didn’t add. Ben had told them about it. Of course, he’d said it was to give to Beverly but…</p><p>Mike squinted his eyes and hummed. “Do you <em>want</em> it to be a date?”</p><p>“What? No,” Eddie said, probably too quickly. He sounded defensive even to himself. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I don’t even…” He trailed off, because this was a dumb thing to talk about. “Does it matter?”</p><p>Mike gave a diplomatic shrug. Eddie hated it when he got all neutral and shit. It was so annoying.</p><p>“I don’t know, do you want it to matter?”</p><p>“Don’t get all psychoanalytical with me, Hanlon,” Eddie snarled. Mike just smirked at him and Eddie deflated slightly. “I don’t think it does. You know I’m not…” He stopped and Mike gave him a sympathetic smile. He knew that Eddie didn’t really date - that he didn’t exactly care to. He knew that Eddie wasn’t normal in that way, even if he was nice enough to act like it wasn’t weird. “Besides, a guy who’s into Ben would definitely not be into me.” He took a drink of his coffee, frowning. “Not that it matters.”</p><p>Mike sighed. “Of course not.” He bit his lip and looked at Eddie with kind eyes and for a spiteful moment, Eddie hated him for it. “But I’m here if you decide it does matter. You know that, right?”</p><p>Eddie sighed and looked down at the table, the spite curling into a little dying ember.</p><p>“Of course I fucking know that,” he’d grumbled.</p><p>Now here he was, in a fucking tie, clocking each one Richie’s movements across the room.</p><p><em>Is this a date? Is it a date? Is this a fucking date?</em> his brain chanted mercilessly.</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, it’s not a fucking date,” Eddie muttered to himself, taking a sip of his own drink. He was trying to go slow but Richie had already pounded his before excusing himself to go back to the bar.</p><p>Which was why Eddie was alone when he heard someone clear their throat to his left.</p><p>He glanced over and nearly jumped out of his skin, spilling some of his drink on himself. “Jesus!”</p><p>Myra gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright, Eddie?” She made a gesture, like she was going to reach out and touch him, but she stopped herself and pulled away.</p><p>“Yes, sorry, you startled me,” he said, brushing himself off. He took a shaky breath and tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Hi, good to see you.”</p><p>Was he supposed to hug her? At what point do you hug your ex-wife? It had been five years but he’d barely hugged her when they were fucking married.</p><p>She gave him a small smile. “Good to see you, too.” She gave him a once-over, forehead creasing. “I’ve been wondering how you’ve been.”</p><p>Eddie gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to fix his hair. “I’m fine,” he advised, clipped.</p><p>She smiled sadly, like she didn’t believe it. Eddie ground his teeth. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”</p><p>Eddie rubbed his eye. “Yeah, well, you know me - I love these kinds of things.”</p><p>She laughed and Eddie was horrified when he realized that she likely didn’t realize he was being sarcastic. “I know, it’s so great to see the old gang!”</p><p>Literally none of Eddie’s “gang” was here. He felt like Myra should have known this - Eddie’s group of friends at school had been small but they were still his fucking friends. He really should have put out more feelers before he had stupidly agreed to go to this thing.</p><p>“Hah,” he laughed weakly. “Right.”</p><p>He startled again when he felt a long arm drape over his shoulder.</p><p>“Sorry, that line took forever.”</p><p>It was Richie. Richie had his arm around Eddie. Richie’s arm was around him. Richie was leaning into him, a line of warmth up Eddie’s side. Eddie was suddenly awash with the smell of him again - his heart rate sped for some reason as he registered the smell of cloves and whiskey and a little bit of sweat and probably Richie’s deodorant and something else spicy and Eddie felt like maybe he couldn’t breathe. Why was smelling Richie’s deodorant making him feel all weird and shaky?</p><p>He slowly turned to look up at Richie (Eddie knew, logically, that Richie couldn’t be THAT much taller than him - Eddie was average height for God’s sake - but why did he feel so small all of the sudden?) and Richie angled his head just enough to send him a wink that Myra couldn’t see. Eddie felt his whole body flush. What the fuck was happening?</p><p>Oh, God.</p><p>Richie turned back to Myra.</p><p>“Hi,” he chirped.</p><p>She eyed him like he was something gross on the bottom of her shoe.</p><p>“Hello,” she said, slowly, still trying to be polite. She blinked for another moment before looking at Eddie again. “Anyway, Eddie, I just wanted to say, I’m worried about you. You look so tired.”</p><p>“I’m Richie,” Richie interjected, suddenly a bit louder. He smiled down at Myra and there was a slightly savage edge to it. Eddie looked between them, still feeling like he was trying to catch up to what the fuck was happening to his body.</p><p>Myra was looking at him expectantly. Shit, it was his turn to talk.</p><p>“Uh, right,” Eiddie said once he found his voice. “Richie, this is Myra, my -”</p><p>“Ohhh, Myra!” Richie exclaimed, still a bit too boisterous. “I’ve heard so much about you!”</p><p>Myra narrowed her eyes, giving him a once-over.</p><p>“That’s funny, Eddie’s never mentioned you,” she replied, tone carefully neutral though Eddie knew her well enough to be able to tell that she instantly did <em>not</em> like Richie.</p><p>His mom probably would have hated him too.</p><p>Coming here was a bad idea.</p><p>Eddie was starting to sweat.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, shooting for light but it came out slightly hysterical. “We’re, uh, fairly new friends.”</p><p>“Right,” Richie chuckled, tone still a little nasty, “‘friends’.” He then shot an exaggerated wink at Myra. Eddie gaped at him. How fucking drunk was he? His grip around Eddie tightened.</p><p>Myra looked like she wasn’t comprehending what exactly was going on. She looked at Eddie like there was some possible way he would know.</p><p>“Eddie, what is this?” she asked, in spite of the fact that Eddie thought it was pretty fucking obvious that he had no idea.</p><p>“I think you know what it is,” Richie cut in before Eddie could say anything.</p><p>Eddie thought he caught a whiff of aftershave. Did Richie put on fucking aftershave? Like an adult?</p><p>Something weird flipped in his stomach.</p><p>She was letting out a disbelieving laugh as Eddie tried to regain some kind of composure.</p><p>“I don’t...” She cast Eddie another flabbergasted look before sniffing at Richie. “I don’t believe it. Eddie’s not…” She stopped herself, scoffing. “And besides, him, with a third-rate comedian?” she continued, a little mean.</p><p>“‘<em>Third rate’</em>?” Richie gasped theatrically, too scandalized for it to be real. A few people turned to stare. Eddie tried to give all of them apologetic looks but he felt like his face wasn’t working correctly. “I’ll have you know that one time Letterman told me I was promising and <em>Joan Rivers</em> called me brave.” Richie paused and looked like something was legitimately dawning on him. “Oh shit,” he muttered, “did she mean that in a bad way?”</p><p>Myra looked at Eddie, desperate.</p><p>“Eddie, please tell me he’s joking.”</p><p>Eddie just stared at her, finding himself unable to respond. He should say no. The answer was no. He should clarify that Richie was clearly joking. But that would open up the conversation again. Myra would want to keep talking, probably about how much sleep Eddie needed and that he wasn’t getting enough vitamins or taking the right meds and then Eddie might either curl up into a ball or scream.</p><p>But still, he should say no. He should tell Richie to shut the fuck up but instead he just opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment, his brain static.</p><p>Richie pointed at him and said, “Exactly!” like Eddie had literally contributed anything. “So I think you better step off!”</p><p>Myra looked affronted and more people turned to look at them. Eddie was dying.</p><p>“Step <em>off</em>?” Myra repeated, incredulous.</p><p>“Eddie’s my man now!” Richie said in some weird macho voice. Eddie fought a laugh at how completely horrified Myra looked.</p><p>This was getting out of hand. Eddie needed to fucking do <em>something</em>.</p><p>“Okay!” he barked, a little too loud, holding up his hands. “Myra,” he continued in a calmer voice, slipping out from under Richie’s arm, if only to try to reclaim some sanity. He still felt oddly shaky but tried to give her a reassuring smile. She looked at him, distraught. “I’m sorry but will you, uh, excuse us for a moment?”</p><p>She gave a faint nod and he turned to grip Richie’s bicep and dragged him away.</p><p>“That’s right!” Richie crowed at her.</p><p>Eddie yanked him harder.</p><p>“Will you stop that?” he hissed at him, feeling like he was finally regaining his grasp on reality. “People are going to think I brought you here as a prank.”</p><p>Richie stopped fighting him and let himself be led willingly.</p><p>“Some people might say my existence is a prank, Eds,” Richie said back sagely, the bravado completely gone. “A prank from God.”</p><p>Eddie found a corner where they were finally out of sight of Myra, placing his drink on a nearby table and wheeling around to advance on Richie.</p><p>“Are you fucking drunk?” Eddie demanded.</p><p>Richie gave a loose shrug. “Not really.”</p><p>“Cool,” Eddie sneered, “then what the fuck was that?”</p><p>Richie smirked and took a drink. “Interference.”</p><p>“Telling my ex-wife that we’re dating is ‘interference’?” Eddie demanded, doing angry air-quotes.</p><p>Richie made a considering face at his hands and just shrugged again.</p><p>“You looked like you were having a bad time so I, you know,” he made a swooping motion with his hand, “swooped in.”</p><p>Jesus Christ.</p><p>“Okay,” Eddie continued through gritted teeth, running a hand through his hair. Then, a little desperately, he implored, “Then can you tell me <em>why</em> your go-to solution in these situations is to tell people we’re dating?”</p><p>Richie narrowed his eyes. “Does it bother you?”</p><p>Eddie threw his hands up into the air. “Yeah!”</p><p>A strange look passed over Richie’s face before he plastered on a condescending smile. “Why, you scared they’ll think you’re gay?” he shot back, a little sharp.</p><p>Eddie actually rolled his eyes at that one and he gave Richie a withering look.</p><p>“More than half these people already think that, I don’t give a shit about that.”</p><p>It was true. It was a commonly-held assumption people made about him. Eddie begrudgingly understood because he was at least somewhat self aware - he was clean and he was fussy and didn’t really date and he certainly appeared to be completely uninvested in his previous marriage and, while it used to bother him to no end, he honestly didn’t care anymore.</p><p>Richie raised his eyebrows like that was a surprise.</p><p>“Is it because you’re embarrassed it’s me?” he asked, face open and honest before he seemed to cringe.</p><p>That made Eddie take pause.</p><p>Was he actually being serious?</p><p>“Just because you’re a fucking embarrassing person doesn’t mean I’m embarrassed by you,” Eddie said in a rush before he took a careful sip of his drink. “But don’t tell anyone I said that. I’ll deny it.”</p><p>Richie took a sip of his own drink, looking pleased. “Then what’s the big deal?”</p><p>Eddie sighed. “I just…” He frowned and he found Richie studying him before looking away. “I just don’t feel like it’s anybody’s fucking business.”</p><p>“What, who you date?”</p><p>“No! Any of it!” Eddie exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down. “I don’t want anyone to know anything about me. It’s none of their business.”</p><p>Richie let out a soft laugh. “You don’t want anyone to know <em>anything</em>?” he asked in disbelief. “You literally gave me a rundown of your life within like 24 hours of knowing me.”</p><p>Eddie sputtered, feeling himself turn red.</p><p>“Momentary insanity,” he huffed. “Besides you…” He gestured at Richie. “You’re all <em>you</em> and sometimes I just find myself telling you shit.”</p><p>It wasn’t a very valid reason but Richie looked genuinely flattered. Maybe Eddie could have come up with a better excuse if he had any clue what the reason <em>was</em>.</p><p>“Usually, people learn shit about you and they assume they know you,” Eddie muttered, almost to himself. “They don’t, though.”</p><p>He met Richie’s eyes for a moment before looking at the floor, embarrassed by how much he’d given away yet again.</p><p>“Hmm.” Richie regarded him. There was something in the tone of his voice, something serious for once. “You contain multitudes.”</p><p>Eddie startled, staring up at Richie, his eyes going wide. Richie’s expression was soft, something very sincere and open in his dreamy gaze and Eddie felt like there was a buzzing in his head, like his shirt was too tight all of the sudden. Richie looked at him like, like… like he saw him? The air in the room felt close, suffocating and Eddie felt that urge to sway into Richie wash over him again. To get under his arm again, press into his chest, get close.</p><p>Of course, that’s when Richie chose to say: “Anyone ever tell you that you have Disney eyes?”</p><p>The moment popped like a bubble because, right, of course - this was a joke, this was all a joke, and Eddie felt like cold water had been splashed on him.</p><p>He looked away, snorting, regaining equilibrium.</p><p>“No, because I’m not a sixteen-year-old girl.”</p><p>Richie grinned at him but something in his eyes looked a bit wistful.</p><p>“I’m sure any sixteen-year-old girl would be jealous of your eyelashes.” He made a considering face. “Probably some sixteen-year-old boys, too.”</p><p>Eddie scoffed again, taking another sip of his drink but he felt his face heating up. Again.</p><p>“Thanks,” he grumbled, “I was born with them.”</p><p>“Good genetics then,” Richie said, smiling down at him.</p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes, still feeling off-kilter from earlier, and checked his watch. It wasn’t that late but he could feel his internal meter for tolerating this kind of event hitting its max capacity.</p><p>“I think we better go. I don’t think anyone else I know is gonna show up.”</p><p>He thought Richie almost looked stricken for a moment before he gave Eddie an easy smile.</p><p>“Yeah, sure, this is your thing.” He glanced around the bar, bouncing his leg. “Do you wanna, like, go get a drink somewhere else or…?”</p><p>In spite of the fact that he was sure Richie meant nothing by it, something nervous fizzled in Eddie’s stomach and he found himself shaking his head.</p><p>“Nah, I think I might call it a night.” He downed his drink to avoid looking at Richie’s face.</p><p>“That’s cool,” Richie said, a bit too quickly. “That’s totally fine.”</p><p>The silence felt awkward as they made their way to the exit.</p><p>“I may just take an Uber back,” Eddie heard himself saying once they were outside. He pulled out his phone, like he was on autopilot, and tapped on the app, putting in the request.</p><p>Richie shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding agreeably.</p><p>“Cool,” he replied, flashing Eddie a smile. “I may still take the train unless you wanted to, um, split the fair.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Eddie responded on reflex.</p><p><em>What are you doing?</em> a little voice inside of him demanded. <em>He’s going to leave.</em></p><p><em>I want to go home</em>, Eddie told himself.</p><p>
  <em>Do you?</em>
</p><p>“Oh. Alright.” Richie rubbed the back of his neck and glanced behind him. “Do you want me to wait with you until it gets here?”</p><p>“What, you think I’m gonna get mugged in the next five minutes in this part of town?” Eddie tried to joke.</p><p>Richie gave a weak laugh. “Well, you are dressed pretty fancy. Wouldn’t want you to, you know,” he wiggled his fingers Eddie’s way, “get stabbed.”</p><p>Eddie let out his own strained laugh before shrugging.</p><p>“It’s okay, I’m good,” he said in spite of himself.</p><p>Richie opened his mouth before looking at the ground. He bit his lip and gave Eddie a tight smile.</p><p>“Okay then,” he replied. “Thanks for… thanks for letting me crash your thing. Sorry if I…”</p><p>Eddie waved a hand. “It’s fine, it’s not like I haven’t made a scene before.”</p><p>Why was this so fucking weird? Why was Eddie being so <em>weird</em>?</p><p>“Well.” Richie looked indecisive for a moment before clapping his hands together and starting to walk backwards. “Talk to you later, I guess. Have a good night.”</p><p>
  <em>Stop him.</em>
</p><p>“You, too.”</p><p>
  <em>He wanted to hang out.</em>
</p><p>But then Richie was gone and Eddie was left with an odd hollow feeling in his chest, staring at his phone with strangely burning eyes as he waited for his ride to arrive.</p><p>Not too long after, he was in bed, replaying the conversation for the umpteenth time (clearly something had gone off the rails but what was Eddie missing and how had he fucked up and why was he obsessing over it so much) when he balled up his fists, a strange sort of serene calm washing over him.</p><p>He was going to resolve this. If only for his own peace of mind.</p><p>He just needed some help.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next update will likely be on Tuesday</p><p> </p><p>Beverly is wrong by the way - Hawaiian shirts look great always for every occasion. I might have written this solely as an outlet for Hawaiian shirt propaganda. My roommates keep telling me to stop buying them but no one can stop me.</p><p> </p><p>This was kind of what I imagined Richie’s outfit to be only way less douchey and a little less formal: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a4/55/eb/a455eb35763d52da4bd23dd02b362727.jpg</p><p>combined with this: https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0978/4862/files/KirrinFinch_17Nov9130_850bad27-9a5e-4d0f-8f9e-2ec091417227_large.jpg?v=1517350764</p><p> </p><p>you can find me on tumblr or twitter, where if you squint I sometimes kind of look like the ghost of Michelle Williams (not dead):<br/>https://fullofbeansandspunk.tumblr.com/<br/>https://twitter.com/shwahaha</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting (aka A Turning Point)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Even two dumbasses have to be right once a day.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger Warning: very brief mention of canon-typical domestic abuse when Eddie talks to Beverely. It’s basically one line but wanted to give you a heads up!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> <span class="u">Richie</span> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Richie was a fucking moron.</p><p>What had Danny Eckleson said to him once?</p><p>
  <em>“You’re a moment-ruiner, Tozier.”</em>
</p><p>Not for the first time, Richie shook his head at himself and muttered, “‘Disney eyes.’ You fucking idiot.” He scrubbed the dish he was washing with a little more force than necessary. “‘Step off!’” he mocked to himself. “Such a dipshit.”</p><p>He had not called Beverly as he had said he would if he blew it. In fact, he hadn’t really talked to anyone for the last few days. He was going to see everyone soon, anway. He had therapy tomorrow. Why talk about it before then? Some things were a little too painful to bear and he didn’t feel like reliving any cringey moment before he had to.</p><p>He let his head hang for a moment.</p><p>“Fuck me,” he muttered.</p><p>It was fine. He’d be fine. It’s not like he hadn’t blown shit before.</p><p>It was just that Eddie was…</p><p>Whatever, it didn’t matter.</p><p>It would be fine.</p><p>That’s when he heard his phone buzz. Wiping off his hands, he checked and saw he had a text from an unknown number.</p><p>He opened the text.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><b>Unknown</b><br/>Hey. I got your number from Beverly through Ben.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Richie felt his heart seize.</p><p>“No way,” he said out loud to no one.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><b>Unknown</b><br/>I may have also gotten your address.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“What?!” Richie whispered at his phone. Before he could type a response, his phone buzzed again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><b>Unknown</b><br/>I may also be here. Your buzzer doesn’t work.</em>
</p><p>
  <em><b>Unknown</b><br/>This is Eddie, by the way.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Richie almost dropped the phone in his haste to type back.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em><b>Richie Tozier</b><br/>Stay where u r b right down</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” he hissed at his empty room. “Shit!” He hastily dumped some more dishes into his sink and looked into his bedroom, kicking clothes into the closet and shutting the doors. He flipped his sheets up to make his bed look a bit more tidy.</p><p>What was he doing? Eddie might not even wanna come up. He might just be there to tell Richie to fuck off forever.</p><p>“Oh, my God,” Richie muttered to himself, glancing in the mirror to pat down his hair. He hadn’t really shaved since the reunion thing. “He already knows you look like garbage, go downstairs,” he told his reflection before turning around and going out the door before he could change his mind.</p><p>He was in the elevator when he realized he had no shoes on. His socks didn’t match. Maybe Eddie wouldn’t notice?</p><p>Who was he kidding, Eddie 100% would notice.</p><p>No time to care now.</p><p>He jumped when the elevator dinged for the ground floor.</p><p>“What the fuck,” he whispered to himself as he walked into the hall. “What the fuck, what the fuck.”</p><p>And there he was. Eddie was in his lobby, phone in hand, head jerking up when he heard Richie approach. He seemed to take in Richie’s appearance, mouth twisting a bit in amusement.</p><p>“Nice socks,” he said in lieu of a greeting.</p><p>“Laundry day,” Richie lied, hating how breathless he sounded. Eddie looked like he didn’t believe him but then his eyes landed on Richie’s shirt. Richie glanced down to see that it was his “Remember when Robocop shot that dude in the dick” shirt and it was stained dark with water. “It’s a joke, Bill got it. I was doing dishes,” he explained hastily. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone.”</p><p>Eddie coughed and gave a sheepish shrug. “I thought it was only fair. You know where I live.”</p><p>“Right. Mutual stalking.” Richie held up his phone. “And now you know my number, too!”</p><p>Eddie gave him a soft smile. “Yeah.” He looked back down and ran a hand over his face. “Listen, sorry for the other night.”</p><p>Wait, what?</p><p><em>He</em> was sorry?</p><p>“For what?” Richie asked, genuinely baffled.</p><p>Eddie shrugged. “For, I don’t know, overreacting?”</p><p>Richie let out a helpless laugh as relief almost made him dizzy. “I acted like a jackass.”</p><p>“You thought you were helping,” Eddie said back, reasonably.</p><p>“In a jackass way.”</p><p>Eddie bit his lip. “You <em>did</em> help me get out of a conversation with Myra.” His expression turned soft. “So I guess I also came here to thank you.”</p><p>Richie opened his mouth. Closed it. He looked around the lobby.</p><p>“You’re… you’re welcome?”</p><p>Eddie seemed oblivious to Richie’s inability to function and continued.</p><p>“I wasn’t mad at you,” he explained, just a bit stilted and awkward, maybe like he didn’t know how to talk if he wasn’t yelling at Richie. “I just hit a point where I can’t deal with social shit anymore and, like. I just wanna leave.”</p><p>Richie nodded eagerly. “Right, yeah, that makes sense. Also you had to deal with your ex-wife and your new friend who, again, was acting like a jackass which I hear can be pretty socially exhausting.”</p><p>Eddie shot him a grateful smile but didn’t hold his gaze and Richie wondered if he thought he was just being humored.</p><p>“No, really,” Richie continued. ”I understand. I’m just glad -” he cut himself off before he could say something embarrassing and reframed. “Thank you for letting me know. It’s a relief to know that I avoided pissing you off for once.”</p><p>Eddie snorted. “Oh, you always piss me off but I’m not mad.”</p><p>Richie grinned. “Cool.”</p><p>Eddie regardly him warmly for a moment before clearing his throat.</p><p>“I also, uh…” He fidgeted before shifting the strap over his shoulder to reveal a bag. It looked different from the one he usually carried - it was dark brown and slightly antique-y looking. “I got you this.”</p><p>Richie couldn’t believe his fucking eyes.</p><p>“You got me a bag?” he breathed, not bothering to keep the wonder out of his voice.</p><p>Eddie fidgeted again. “Yeah. For the one you lost.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Since you won’t let me give you any fucking money.”</p><p>He thrust the bag at Richie who took it with delicate fingers. It was a nice soft leather. Richie swallowed, hard.</p><p>Recovering, he gave Eddie a smile.</p><p>“You didn’t hide a check in here, did you?” he joked, dramatically checking the pockets.</p><p>“Uh,” Eddie started and that’s when Richie opened the main compartment and halted, his stomach bottoming out.</p><p>“Did you get me new notebooks?” he asked, his voice soft and weird to his own ears.</p><p>Eddie shuffled his feet. “Yeah, uh, Beverly told me that’s the main thing you lost besides the bag. Figured you could use them for, um, workshopping.” He said the word like he still wasn’t sure if he was using it right.</p><p>Richie feared for a horrible moment that he might cry. “Wow.”</p><p>“She said not to bother with nice ones,” Eddie continued, like maybe Richie wasn’t impressed.</p><p>“She was right,” Richie assured him. “I can never bring myself to write in the nice ones. I’ll definitely use these.” He held the bag to his chest. “Thank you.”</p><p>Eddie blinked up at him (<em>Disney eyes, fucking Disney eyes</em>) and Richie wanted to throw up from the butterflies having a rave in his stomach.</p><p>“It’s not a problem,” Eddie said, an awkward smile on his face. He seemed to shake himself. “Anyway, that’s just - that’s what I wanted to do. And say.”</p><p>Richie regarded him - the way he was avoiding Richie’s eyes, the sort of consternated turn of his mouth. His hands shoved into his pockets, his sensible shoes.</p><p>Not for the first time, Richie considered the reality that this could potentially be all he would ever get. That this was all Eddie would want. Just scraps of interactions. Little morsels of <em>something</em>. Richie prodded at the thought, trying to give it real weight for once.</p><p>What if Ben was right? There was a possibility Eddie had no interest in sex. What if he didn’t like <em>kissing?</em></p><p>Maybe he didn’t even like being touched at all… though he never seemed to move away when Richie got up in his business.</p><p>Okay, Richie countered internally, but what if Eddie liked him enough to tolerate Richie’s company on a regular basis? What if he would spend all the time Richie wanted? What if he would hang out and would blush and smile and even laugh sometimes?</p><p>Would it be enough? Was that enough?</p><p>Richie knew that he needed to set aside some time to do some very serious contemplation on all of this. And probably discuss it with his therapist... but, looking at Eddie’s little embarrassed face, something at Richie’s core told him he didn’t fucking care.</p><p>He didn’t <em>care</em>.</p><p>He probably should, and maybe he’d start masturbating a whole HELL of a lot more but also, someday he was gonna be old and his dick would stop working and he just <em>didn’t give a shit.</em></p><p>Richie could live on scraps.</p><p>Richie could fucking flourish on scraps.</p><p>So he just grinned at Eddie, deciding to allow him the out.</p><p>“And you couldn’t have just texted me an apology?” Richie asked, gesturing to his phone.</p><p>Eddie scoffed but he finally met Richie’s eyes as his shoulders relaxed.</p><p>“We’re not fucking millenials, Richie. Also, glad to have my suspicions confirmed that you text like a 12 year old.”</p><p>There he was. He turned to go and Richie fought the urge to stop him.</p><p><em>Be cool</em>, he told himself.</p><p>“Hey, textspeak saves me so much time, I’m productive as fuck,” he responded, borderline nonsensical with relief and, like, total giddiness.</p><p>Eddie gave him an amused smirk and a wave. He was out the door when a thought occurred to Richie.</p><p>Cursing, he rushed to the doors and let himself out.</p><p>“Eddie, hey!”</p><p>Eddie stopped and turned around, a puzzled expression on his face. The sun was at a point on the horizon where the rays caught in his hair, almost giving him a halo.</p><p>Richie realized he was standing on the sidewalk in his mismatched socks and still clutching the bag to his chest.</p><p>“Yeah?” Eddie asked.</p><p>He looked beautiful.</p><p>Richie was staring. He cleared his throat. “How do you feel about garden parties?”</p><p>Eddie took a moment to process this non sequitur. “What, like, in general?”</p><p>Richie laughed. “Specifically, how do you feel about going to one with me?”</p><p>Eddie hesitated. “When?”</p><p>“Saturday. It’s at Stan’s.” Richie smiled in a way that he hoped was reassuring. “It’s cool if you can’t, I just thought you might-”</p><p>“Yeah, ok,” Eddie said before Richie could even finish his thought.</p><p>Richie blinked and furrowed his brow. “Wait, yes? I thought I’d have to convince you.”</p><p>Eddie let out a soft laugh. “Just text me the details.”</p><p>Richie grinned at him. “Sure, you fucking millenial.”</p><p>He felt like he was floating when Eddie turned around and walked away, flipping Richie the bird.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>---------------------</p><p>
  <em> <span class="u">Eddie</span> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Now this is more what I expected,” Eddie said, taking in Richie’s outfit as he stood in the other man’s lobby.</p><p>Richie was wearing a Hawaiian shirt with little people surfing on it and had beat-up black sneakers on his feet. He at least had the shirt tucked into the pants he wore to the reunion and Eddie could see how they hugged his waist a little better without the blazer on.</p><p>Not that he was looking.</p><p>Richie dramatically put a hand on his hip. “It’s called fashion, I don’t expect you to understand.” He grinned down at the shirt. “Plus it makes me feel like Tom Selleck and Stan hates this one.” He made a little flappy hand at Eddie. “That looks -” He stopped and seemed to swallow, adjusting his glasses. “You look nice.”</p><p>Eddie looked down at the cardigan he was wearing. It was a dark maroon color. He felt decidedly boring next to Richie. He picked at it under his jacket, shifting the strap of the bag he had over his shoulder.</p><p>“Thanks, hopefully it’s appropriate.”</p><p>“You’re with me,” Richie said, winking, “no one’s going to expect appropriate.”</p><p>He strode towards the doors but stopped as he shrugged his jacket on, glancing outside.</p><p>“Oh fuck, it’s raining?”</p><p>Eddie held up his umbrella. “Yeah, do you not have an umbrella?”</p><p>Richie made a tsking noise. “Not on me. I can run back upstairs but I don’t really know where…”</p><p>Eddie just rolled his eyes. “Whatever, we can share.”</p><p>Richie brightened. “Really?”</p><p>Eddie shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah, it’s fine.”</p><p>“It’s not very far,” Richie assured him.</p><p>“Really, it’s fine.”</p><p>Normally, Eddie would be annoyed. He’d let the other person walk in the rain just for being a dipshit who couldn’t plan.</p><p>And yeah, he was exasperated that Richie hadn’t checked his phone or looked out his fucking window to see that it was raining. He was an adult. So maybe Eddie should treat Richie like he would anyone else.</p><p>He couldn’t bring himself to, though.</p><p>Once they were outside, he opened the umbrella, holding it over both of them. He swallowed when he realized how close Richie was going to have to stand in order for it to cover them both. He hunched slightly, just behind and over Eddie’s right shoulder, basically pressed against him.</p><p>They started walking.</p><p>“You sure you don’t want me to hold it?” Richie asked, laughing as he saw how much Eddie was having to strain to hold it aloft over both their heads. His breath tickled Eddie’s hair. He suppressed a shiver. “I am taller.”</p><p>Eddie shot him an annoyed look.</p><p>“You’re just gonna hog it. You’ll hold it too high and then my pants are gonna get wet.”</p><p>Richie laughed again and he was close enough that Eddie could feel it vibrate against his shoulder. The afternoon smelled of rain but he could still smell Richie. The leather smell was stronger at the moment but there was still that <em>something</em> underneath. Eddie couldn’t remember a time that he’d noticed another person’s smell this much unless they stank.</p><p>It was distracting.</p><p>“You’ve never even seen my technique,” Richie was saying, laughter in his voice. “I might be a very considerate umbrella-holder, you don’t know.”</p><p>“It’d be considerate of you to be less tall,” Eddie griped, though there wasn’t much real heat to his tone.</p><p>Richie just laughed again, apparently in high spirits.</p><p>“Eds. Eddie. Edward. Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie scowled and Richie leaned forward even more, crowding into him. His voice dropped into a mischievous whisper, tickling Eddie’s ear. “I promise, if I could do it, I would shrink for you.”</p><p>Eddie hoped Richie couldn’t tell that his face was getting red. “Thanks.”</p><p>“No, seriously, if I could, I would make myself even smaller than you.” He was still crowded against Eddie’s back and side. “Shrink into an itty bitty Richie. I could live in your pocket.”</p><p>He stuck his hand into Eddie’s jacket pocket, causing him to jump a little and tug it away, frowning up at Richie.</p><p>“Great, then I could throw you in the gutter where you fucking belong,” he snapped.</p><p>Richie let out a delighted laugh.</p><p>“Careful, Eddie,” he warned, voice low in Eddie’s ear, “if people hear that dirty talk, there are gonna be rumors.”</p><p>Eddie wanted to laugh. He kind of wanted to scream. He wanted to shake Richie. He wanted...</p><p>Eddie shot Richie a look to find that Richie was regarding him with warm eyes. Something startled passed over the other man’s face but before Eddie could decipher its meaning, Richie averted his gaze, ostensibly double-checking his phone. The strange atmosphere fizzled and Eddie fought the urge to shake away the fog that seemed to fill his head.</p><p>“I always get turned around at this corner,” Richie muttered to himself, looking at Google maps a little too intently.</p><p>Eddie bit his lip, frowning.</p><p>“I’m not even that short, you know,” he felt compelled to say when Richie directed them the correct way.</p><p>Richie snorted. “I know,” he said, giving Eddie a wink. “You’re fun-size.”</p><p>The urge to shove Richie into a puddle hit him at the same time as the desire to haul him closer. Something was fucking wrong with Eddie.</p><p>“You’re such a jackass,” he muttered under his breath, trying to cover the strange onslaught of conflicting desires he was dealing with. It came out more affectionate than he’d planned.</p><p>Richie shot him a knowing grin. “You love it.” He suddenly stopped, grabbing Eddie’s shoulders to halt him as well. “Here it is!”</p><p>His hands felt like they spanned the entirety of his shoulders. Eddie felt strangely small (again) for a moment and didn’t register what was happening until he realized Richie was gesturing to the building they were in front of.</p><p>It was a nice brownstone with steps leading up to the front door.</p><p>Eddie felt stuck but tried to cover up his hesitation by surveying the continuing rain.</p><p>“Is this garden party actually happening outside?”</p><p>Richie gave him a little shake and started to guide him up the stairs.</p><p>“Who knows. It’s Stan so he probably rented like a bunch of tents and umbrellas and shit. He’s stupidly pragmatic.”</p><p>“And he’s friends with you?” Eddie asked as Richie knocked on the door. There was a little awning so Eddie closed the umbrella.</p><p>Richie didn’t get out of his personal bubble.</p><p>“Hah hah,” he mocked obnoxiously. “Listen, I bring spice to Stan’s life. He would be bored to death without me.”</p><p>“Right,” Eddie said, wiping his palms on the legs of his pants. He shot Richie a nervous look. “You sure it’s cool I’m here?”</p><p>Richie shrugged. “Sure!”</p><p>Eddie squinted at him. “‘<em>Sure</em>’?”</p><p>Richie was avoiding his gaze. “Yeah.” He started bouncing his knee. “Probably…”</p><p>“Did you not fucking ask if it was cool that I come?” Eddie hissed at him. Richie made a pained face. “Jesus fucking Christ, you are such a nightmare,” Eddie breathed at him but then the door was opening.</p><p>“Stan!” Richie greeted.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>---------------------</p>
  <p>
    <em> <span class="u">Richie</span> </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>So, Stan was annoyed. He didn’t say so because he was a consummate gentleman but Richie didn’t miss the beat where Stan paused, took in the two of them, shot Richie a “are you fucking kidding me” look for a half-second before offering Eddie a genuine smile.</p><p>“Eddie, hi!” Stan said. “Good to see you.” He gave Richie another thinly-veiled dirty look. “Richard.”</p><p>Eddie shook his head, looking about one second away from wringing his hands.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he didn’t tell you I was coming until just now,” he started but Stan waved him off.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, man. It’s totally fine.” He ushered them inside but, when Eddie was busy hanging up his jacket, he looked Richie dead in the eye and Richie shrank from his glare.</p><p>Eddie opened his bag, pulling out a bottle of wine.</p><p>“Uh,” he said awkwardly. “I got this as a thank you for the invitation.” He shot Richie a withering look. Richie gave him a strained smile in response. “A gesture I’m now realizing was premature.”</p><p>Richie shriveled up even more.</p><p>Stan laughed and took the bottle, apparently approving of the disdain.</p><p>“It’s really fine, Eddie, I appreciate it.” He gestured to the back door. “Listen, Bill and Bev are outside, I’m sure they’d love to see you. I just need to steal Richie for a second.” He fixed Richie with a hard look. “He can help me open the wine,” he finished through gritted teeth.</p><p>“<em>Or</em>,” Richie offered, maybe a little desperate, “Eddie could stay with us so he can, you know, help... and there-there can be witnesses.”</p><p>Eddie gave him a condescending smile.</p><p>“No, yeah, I think I’ll go see how Beverly and Bill are doing. Have fun!” He patted Richie on the arm and left, leaving him and Stan alone.</p><p>Richie opened his mouth and Stan pointed at him.</p><p>“Shut the fuck up,” he said and Richie snapped his mouth shut. “Come on.” Richie hesitated as Stan moved down the hallway before he called out, “Beep beep, Richie!”</p><p>Richie reluctantly followed him to the kitchen where Stan went to give Patty a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>Well, at least Stan wouldn’t murder him in front of her.</p><p>“Hey, Patty,” Richie greeted, voice weak.</p><p>“Richie, hi!” she said, coming over to give him a hug. Stan handed her the bottle of wine. “Oh, did Richie bring this?” she asked, examining the label. She looked pleasantly surprised if not a bit befuddled. “Wow, this is nice.”</p><p>Stan just stared Richie down.</p><p>“Well,” he said, tone bitchy, “that’s because Richie didn’t bring it.” He crossed his arms. “Eddie did.”</p><p>“Eddie?” Patty looked confused for a moment before it seemingly clicked. “Ooh,” she gasped, grinning at Richie, “you brought Eddie?”</p><p>Stan clicked his tongue, looking disappointed that Patty wasn’t joining his hate train.</p><p>“<em>Yeah</em>, without telling us.”</p><p>Patty swatted at him. “Calm down, Stan. I always make way too much food - this’ll just help us not have to force everyone to take leftovers.”</p><p>“<em>Yeah</em>,” Richie chimed in. “Calm down, Stan.” Richie went to put an arm around Patty. “Patty, have I ever told you you’re my favorite?” He grinned at her as she rolled her eyes. “If you ever wanna leave this stick-in-the-mud, give me the signal and we can run away together.”</p><p>She laughed, lightly smacking his arm, and slipped away to get a wine opener which she handed to Stan.</p><p>Stan fixed him with another glare. “I’m just saying a heads-up would have been cool. Now Eddie probably feels like he’s imposing.”</p><p>Richie scoffed. “Whose fault is that?”</p><p>Stan looked at him like he was stupid. “Yours!”</p><p>“Boys,” Patty interjected. “It’s fine. We’ll make him feel welcome because,” she put a comforting hand on both of their arms, “he <em>is</em>.”</p><p>Richie made an appreciative face.</p><p>“Thank you, <em>Patty</em>,” he said, giving a pointed look at Stan.</p><p>“Fine,” Stan replied, deadpan. “I like him more than you anyway.”</p><p>Patty’s back was turned when Richie gave Stan an apologetic look and dropped his voice. “I <em>am</em> sorry, okay?” Stan shot him a disbelieving glance and popped open the bottle. “Just… you remember the reunion thing he brought me to?”</p><p>Stan snorted. “Yeah. Bill said you were shitting your pants.”</p><p>Richie rolled his eyes. “Right. It didn’t…” He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “It didn’t go so hot?”</p><p>Stan looked at him, confused. “You didn’t say anything.”</p><p>“I was embarrassed,” Richie admitted, avoiding Stan’s eyes and playing with a napkin on the table. “And then I was worried he would bail because it hadn’t gone well and I didn’t want to, like, hype it up to you guys and then, surprise! Here’s loser Richie! Alone!”</p><p>“So you blew it and he’s <em>here</em>?” Stan asked. He gave Richie a knowing smirk. “And here I was thinking it was just you that had it bad.”</p><p>Richie ran a hand through his hair, tapping his foot. “No, I don’t know, I think he might still hate me.” He bit his lip. “He <em>definitely</em> thinks I’m stupid.”</p><p>Stan shrugged. “Maybe he’s into that.” He handed Richie the bottle. “All I know is, I wouldn’t go to a party at a guy’s friend’s house if he stuck his foot in his mouth and ruined shit the last time we hung out unless I was into him.”</p><p>“Hey,” Richie protested weakly, “I said it didn’t go well. I didn’t say I fucked it up.”</p><p>Stan just stared at him.</p><p>Richie deflated. “Okay, yeah, I fucked it up,” he muttered.</p><p>“And yet…” Stan looked out the window to where they could see Eddie sitting at a table, talking to Bev and Bill. It looked like he was telling a story. He was using his hands a lot, anyway. Gesticulating, eyes lit up.</p><p>Stan cleared his throat and Richie jumped, cheeks feeling hot as he hastily looked back at his friend.</p><p>Stan gave him a knowing smirk again.</p><p>“Go,” he said, giving Richie a little push toward the door. “And we’re cool but you fucking owe me.”</p><p>Richie gave him a small salute and let himself outside.</p><p>He came out to the patio (there was a tent, Stan was such a fucking boyscout) to find Beverly giggling uncontrollably and Bill leaning over, face screwed up in laughter - Eddie was looking pleased but also a little sheepish, his head ducking adorably.</p><p>“I come bearing wine,” Richie announced. Bev and Bill looked up at him before bursting into even louder howls.</p><p>Eddie gave him an embarrassed smile, color high on his cheeks.</p><p>“Hey,” he said before ducking his head again.</p><p>“Okay, what the fuck,” Richie griped, putting the bottle on the table. “What are you two jackals laughing at?”</p><p>Beverly just kept giggling and Bill waved a hand.</p><p>“E-Eddie was just telling us about the-the-“ he struggled before bursting back into laughter, choking on the word, “<em>dildo</em>!”</p><p>He and Bev fell into each other.</p><p>Richie let out a shocked laugh, giving Eddie a look. “You told them about that?”</p><p>Eddie pressed a hand to his mouth before shrugging helplessly. “It just came out.”</p><p>Beverly pointed at Richie, still cackling. “I would have paid to see your stupid face!”</p><p>Richie grabbed two glasses from a nearby table and poured wine for both him and Eddie before he pulled up a chair, flopping onto it casually. So what if he was sitting too close to Eddie? Their knees touched. Richie was not staring at where their knees touched. He tried not to fidget.</p><p>Trying to recover, he pouted theatrically at Eddie.</p><p>“Aw, Eddie,” Richie whined. “And here I thought you were just giving me a thoughtful gift and not a mean, mean, meanmeanmean prank!”</p><p>Eddie snorted ruefully. “It can be both.”</p><p>Beverly wagged a finger at Eddie while looking at Richie. “Ooh, Richie, I like this one.”</p><p>Eddie’s face went red and he took an embarrassed drink of wine. Fuck, he was so cute. He would hate how often Richie thought he looked adorable but it was his own fault. Richie took his own hasty swallow of wine.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, probably a little too honestly, “he’s a keeper.”</p><p> </p><p>---------------------</p><p>
  <em> <span class="u">Eddie</span> </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eddie was sitting with Beverly on the couch inside - the party had dwindled back down to just a few of them after hitting it’s max of about twenty. Eddie had really spent the whole time just hanging out with Richie, Bev, Bill and to a lesser extent, Stan and his wife. It had been a few hours. The food had been delicious and Patty had been very clear in her assertion that she was downright delighted that Eddie was there. It was slightly overwhelming.</p><p>Oddly, his internal meter for social bullshit didn’t feel capped out yet.</p><p>Richie was sitting in the armchair next to them, talking to Bill, who was standing.</p><p>Beverly propped her chin in her hand and regarded Eddie, a warm smile on her face as she swirled the wine glass in her other hand.</p><p>“Having a good time?” she asked.</p><p>Eddie let out a small laugh and looked down. “Weirdly enough, yeah.”</p><p>She hummed, sitting up straighter. “Stan’s is always nice.” She made a slight regretful noise and bit her lip. “I almost invited Ben,” she confessed, “but we haven’t even had a proper date yet.”</p><p>Eddie tried to shrug neutrally. “I’m sure he would have loved to come regardless.”</p><p>Eddie knew for a fact that Ben would have literally shit himself in excitement.</p><p>“Is that…” Eddie started. “Is that going okay so far?”</p><p>Beverly looked down, eyelashes fanning out on her cheeks. She really was beautiful.</p><p>She gave a small shrug. “It’s - he’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. It kind of doesn’t…”</p><p>“Feel real?” Eddie guessed. Beverly let out a relieved laugh. “Well, I’ve known him for a long time and it’s legitimate. He’s just <em>like that</em>.” Eddie took a rueful sip of wine. “It’s infuriating. Even when we were teenage boys, he would try to get me to sit down and talk about my feelings while we were playing Street Fighter.” He laughed. “And then he had the audacity to turn into some successful fucking <em>hunk</em> and not be a douchebag.”</p><p>Beverly grinned at him. “He thinks a lot of you.”</p><p>Eddie snorted. “Of course he does, he’s like the nicest man alive.”</p><p>Beverly’s smile turned a little sad. “Yeah,” she said, a bit wistful. “It’s just…” She shifted. “My ex-husband. He wasn’t nice.” She avoided Eddie’s gaze and took another sip of wine. “It’s made things challenging.”</p><p>Eddie winced in sympathy. “Divorced?”</p><p>Beverly nodded.</p><p>“Yeah, mine wasn’t great either,” Eddie admitted. He usually didn’t talk to people about this shit. Even Mike and Ben only got it sparingly and they had been the ones to hold him together during the whole proceedings. But something about the low light and the wine and Richie being nearby and Beverly’s encouraging smile made him want to talk. “Like she wasn’t, I don’t know, abusing me or anything but she just -” He sighed. “This is fucked up but I woke up one day and realized I had kind of let myself marry my mother?”</p><p>Beverly let out a small startled laugh. Eddie must have looked a bit offended because she held out a hand.</p><p>“Sorry, no, that’s just so crazy because that kind of happened to me?” she explained. “But with my dad.”</p><p>Eddie blinked at her. “For real?”</p><p>Beverly laughed. “Yeah, that’s so insane.” She gave Eddie a kind look. “So I take it that similarity was a bad thing.”</p><p>Eddie shook his head. “She wanted me to be someone I wasn’t. She wanted to take care of me - baby me. She wanted me…” He struggled with the word but finally managed to say it: “Sick.” He stared down at his glass. “It wasn’t healthy.” He shrugged. “So I got out.”</p><p>It hadn’t been that simple. He wasn’t even sure what had broken the spell but one day he was at a bar with Ben and blurted out, “I hate being married.”</p><p>Ben had just put a comforting hand on his shoulder.</p><p>”I know,” he said simply. “Do you wanna do anything about it?”</p><p>He looked at Ben, trying not to cry since he was about six beers deep.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” he confessed, miserable.</p><p>It had been a slow process from there - it took months of him secretly squirrelling away any possessions he wanted, finding an apartment, having meltdowns, Mike and Ben encouraging him, before he finally ended it.</p><p>Beverly was looking at him with kind eyes. “Mine punched me.”</p><p>Eddie blinked at her, startled. “Jesus,” he muttered, turning to face Beverly more fully.</p><p>She gave him a small smile. “I’m getting better. The guys help.” She gave a shake of her head, gaze miles away. “He cut me off from them completely for a while. He wanted to start a family.” She looked rueful for a moment before giving Eddie a sympathetic look. “Did you have any kids?”</p><p>Eddie snorted. “No, I hate kids,” he said on reflex. He paused and looked at his glass, stomach turning. “Actually, that’s bullshit,” he found himself admitting quietly. “I don’t. I just got used to saying it so no one would ask. I actually like kids.” He shook his head. “I mean, they’re disgusting disease vectors but I still like them.”</p><p>Beverly laughed. “Holy shit, I used to lie about that too!”</p><p>Eddie smiled at her. “Really?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Beverly said. Then her smile turned a little mischievous. “You know who else likes kids?” Eddie quirked his eyebrow and she stage-whispered, “Richie.” She leaned over. “Isn’t that right, Richie?”</p><p>Eddie glanced to his right - Richie jumped and looked between the two of him, expression startled and maybe a little guilty. Bill was no longer there. Had Richie been listening this whole time?</p><p>Did Eddie mind?</p><p>He found that he didn’t, really, which was odd. Like he’d told Richie, he generally didn’t want anyone to know anything about him.</p><p>But… it was Richie.</p><p>“Hmm?” Richie asked, feigning ignorance. “Sorry? Was there… what?”</p><p>Beverly leveled an unimpressed look at him and Richie shrank.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said in a rush, “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop - Bill left and I was, I was trying to find a good opening but you guys were on a roll and I didn’t wanna interrupt.”</p><p>Beverly crossed her arms. “So you just sat there and listened instead?”</p><p>Richie kept shooting Eddie looks, like he was worried Eddie was going to bolt.</p><p>“Uh, well -”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Eddie cut in. Richie gaped at him and Beverly’s face grew into a surprised smile. Eddie looked back down at his glass. “It’s cool.” He tried to laugh but it sounded forced. “Saves me the time of having to talk about it more than once.”</p><p>Richie didn’t look too comforted. “Eddie, I really am sorry, I know you don’t -”</p><p>“Richie.” Eddie tried to give him a more genuine smile. “It’s okay. I knew you were within earshot and it’s not like I tried to make it private.” He shook his head. “Besides, I already knew you were a nosy fucker so I should have assumed this would happen.”</p><p>Richie was still stammering when Beverly quieted him and gestured to the other side of the room. Patty had her head on Stan’s shoulder, obviously dozing off, as he and Bill talked.</p><p>“I think that’s our cue to head out,” Bev whispered to them. “I’m gonna go say bye.”</p><p>She got up and, as she passed Richie, she bent to say something into his ear, too low for Eddie to catch what it was. Richie colored and sank down before wrinkling his nose at her.</p><p>“Yeah, <em>okay</em> - Jesus,” he mumbled, a little petulant. “I’m working on it. God.”</p><p>Beverly just laughed and ruffled his hair, stepping over his legs to go say her goodbyes.</p><p>Eddie gave him a questioning look and, oddly, Richie turned redder.</p><p>“Just a, uh,” he stuttered, trying to fix his hair, “inside joke.” He stood and, for a moment, towered over Eddie. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”</p><p>Eddie got up to fetch his things and everyone else joined him by the door.</p><p>“Eddie,” Patty said, putting a hand on his elbow. “It was so nice finally getting to meet you, it was really delightful having you here. You’re welcome anytime.”</p><p>She shot Stan a meaningful look and gave Eddie a quick hug, much to his surprise.</p><p>Stan tsked and frowned. “I never said he wasn’t…” He rolled his eyes before smiling at Eddie. “Ditto to what Patty said,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Even if you get sick of this one.”</p><p>He jabbed a thumb at Richie, making him say, “Hey!”</p><p>Everyone else hugged and they were out the door. It wasn’t raining anymore.</p><p>“We’re gonna catch a Lyft,” Bev said, pulling out her phone.</p><p>“I’m, um, probably just gonna walk,” Richie said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I guess Eddie could catch a ride with you unless…”</p><p>Eddie felt that old familiar thrum of nerves but shook his head.</p><p>“Nah, I’ll walk you to your building.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “It’s not too far.”</p><p>Richie nodded, something like a relieved grin breaking onto his face. “Oh? Okay, cool.”</p><p>Bill walked up and pulled Richie into a hug before pulling back to lightly slap him on the face.</p><p>“B-behave yourself,” he said, smirking. He turned and shook Eddie’s hand. “It was c-c-cool hanging out, Eddie. I’ll see you later.”</p><p>“Likewise,” Eddie replied truthfully, shooting him a smile.</p><p>Richie was giving Bill a look Eddie couldn’t really translate before letting out a forced laugh.</p><p>“Why are you telling me to behave? On a short walk to my apartment? You have such low expectations of me.”</p><p>Beverly hugged Richie too before turning and pulling Eddie into a hug as well. He again was surprised but returned it after a moment’s hesitation.</p><p>“Good to see you, Eddie,” she said. “Don’t be a stranger.” A car pulled up and she opened the door after glancing at the app. “Later, Tozier,” she laughed, saluting.</p><p>“Beep beep, Richie!” Bill sang at him, also laughing before getting into the car himself.</p><p>The brake lights were fading into the distance when Eddie turned to Richie.</p><p>“Okay, I gotta ask - what’s with the beep beep thing?”</p><p>Richie shot him a slightly panicked look. “What?”</p><p>“‘Beep beep, Richie’?” Eddie explained with air quotes. “They said it a couple of times tonight.”</p><p>Richie let out a weird laugh.</p><p>“It’s… it’s an inside joke,” he said weakly. “They would say it to me when they wanted me to get to the point and stop fucking around.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Like a car honking at me to go.” He mimicked pressing a car horn. “Beep beep.”</p><p>Eddie felt his brow furrow because he wasn’t sure that the phrase had made sense given the context but didn’t mention it.</p><p>“Well,” he said after a moment of studying Richie, who was looking anywhere but Eddie’s face, “I guess we better go.” He started walking and turned to grin at Richie. “Beep beep, motherfucker.”</p><p>Richie startled and hurried to catch up, falling into step with him. He cleared his throat.</p><p>“I’m glad you hit it off with Beverly,” he said quietly.</p><p>Eddie smiled. “Yeah, she’s great. I really do hope shit works out with her and Ben.” He shook his head. “He can be a little passive sometimes so hopefully he won’t be too much of a wimp for her.”</p><p>“Oh?” Richie said in mild surprise. “You do? Want that, I mean. I had thought, maybe…” He made a vague gesture. “You might be, you know. Into her?”</p><p>Eddie barked out a laugh because what the fuck had given him that impression? He gave Richie a look.</p><p>“I mean, she’s beautiful but no, not really.”</p><p>Richie nodded, not bothering to hide his shock, like he had thought no one was immune to the charms of Beverly Marsh.</p><p>“Oh.” He smiled. “Well, in that case, yeah, I think them dating would be awesome.”</p><p>Eddie snorted, shooting him a rueful look.</p><p>“You sure about that?” he asked. Richie furrowed his brow at him. Eddie debated saying anything but… fuck it. “Ben told me you hit on him.” Eddie had shot for flippant but it sounded slightly annoyed even to his own ears.</p><p>Richie scoffed. “What? No, I didn’t.”</p><p>Was he fucking kidding?</p><p>“You asked for his number,” Eddie pointed out, maybe a tiny bit testy.</p><p>Richie screwed up his face, wrinkling his nose and looking a little offended.</p><p>“I was joking! I was trying to get it for Bev.” He waved a hand. “I flirted with him as much as I flirt with any person I think is hot.”</p><p>Eddie frowned. “So… like you do with everyone.”</p><p>Richie made an annoyed sound.</p><p>“Well, I <em>guess</em>,” he said, clearly frustrated. “But then I try to be clear if I have actual intentions towards someone.”</p><p>Eddie shrugged. “I guess if that works for you…”</p><p>Richie shot him a wild look. “Doesn’t it?!” he asked, desperate for some reason.</p><p>Eddie just made a face. “How should I know?”</p><p>“How should you…?”</p><p>Richie let out another despairing noise and wheeled on Eddie, stopping them both in their tracks. Richie ran a slightly trembling hand through his hair.</p><p>“Okay, some wires have obviously gotten crossed so I’m gonna be straight with you,” he stopped and cracked a small, almost frantic smile. “Well, gay with you.” He took a deep breath and plunged forward. “I think something somewhere got lost in translation and I gummed up the works BUT for the sake of clarity: I like you.” He spread out his hands and Eddie could only stare. “Like, romantical… wise.” Richie winced and made another sort of desperate noise. “Ugh, you know what I mean.”</p><p>Eddie froze and, for a brief moment, it felt as though his entire head was full of cotton. He wasn’t breathing. His brain was pure static. He should probably say something but he couldn’t remember how to talk.</p><p>Richie didn’t seem to mind because he continued anyway.</p><p>“And I could be off-base, but I think you like me back.”</p><p>Eddie blinked at him, warmth crawling up his neck, stomach turning. It wasn’t dread because it was lighter than that. He felt… giddy? Eddie didn’t get fucking giddy. He suddenly wanted to throw up and laugh at the same time.</p><p>Richie seemed blissfully unaware of Eddie’s slow mental breakdown and kept talking.</p><p>“And I’m not sure what your deal is, if you like guys, or even like sex, but that’s fine with me.”</p><p>Eddie swallowed, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.</p><p>“What?” was all he could ask, voice croaking.</p><p>Richie waved a dismissing hand, still clearly on a roll.</p><p>“Like it’s fine with me if you never want to have sex with me,” he clarified, like it was <em>nothing</em>. Like saying something so huge was flippant and not really worth dwelling on. Eddie took an odd breath, chest shuddering. “I know that’s, like, a thing for some people and I’m cool with just hanging out with you and making out - or not, if you hate that. You might hate kissing, I don’t know. We could just like hold hands or-or jerk off in the same room or, uh, I could jerk off in the same apartment. I don’t know if you even - what I’m saying is, it’s all cool. I’ve been practically celibate for years so it’s not like that’s an issue.”</p><p>Eddie stared at him, brain tripping over the words <em>jerk off</em> on repeat.</p><p>“Do you think I’m asexual?” he asked without thinking. It wasn’t the most pertinent question but it bore asking. This was fucking surreal.</p><p>“I dunno, man,” Richie’s voice was getting more manic now, his hands gripping his hair as he paced back and forth in front of Eddie. “My-my therapist and I talked about shit and I decided it’s cool with me if you are. Like would I say no to sex with you? No, but I’d only be into it if you were and -“</p><p>Eddie held up a hand. Richie immediately stopped pacing and he grimaced.</p><p>“I’m,” Eddie started before stopping. He’d never really had this conversation before. Like, Mike had sort of asked back in college and Ben knew him really well but he hadn’t really said anything about it. Not out loud.</p><p>“I’m not. I don’t think,” he continued, swallowing, mouth dry. “I don’t know.” He gave a weird jerk of his shoulders, trying to shrug. “I might be, like, close to it but no.”</p><p>“Okay,” Richie said. Eddie felt pleasantly warmed when he realized Richie didn’t sound hopeful about the prospect of Eddie wanting sex, more just like he was listening. Like he wanted Eddie to go on.</p><p>“I also might have said I was, kind of. Before. Maybe.” Eddie cleared his throat. “I have had sex,” he felt compelled to clarify. Richie nodded like this was a commonplace thing, for a man his age to have to confirm he has had sex before. “I just wasn’t… I didn’t care about it. I never…” He ran his hand through his hair. “That could still be the case. But I don’t think it is with - with you,” he stuttered to a close, his cheeks extremely warm.</p><p>“Are you saying I might be an exception?” Richie breathed and when Eddie darted a suspicious glance his way, he only found Richie’s eyes full of wonder.</p><p>“Possibly. Maybe.” Eddie frowned as Richie grinned. “Don’t get a big head about it. I might still change my mind.” When Richie’s smile softened, Eddie let out a sigh because it was time to stop lying to himself and admit what he had been suppressing for a while. “You’re right though. I do, um, like you.”</p><p>His face was on fire. That was such a juvenile bullshit way to put it.</p><p><em>I like-like you</em>, Eddie thought with disdain. He might as well have passed a note in fucking class.</p><p>Richie gasped, causing Eddie to shoot him a sharp glance.</p><p>“Oh my gawd,” he sang, breathless and grinning, “do you have a <em>crush</em> on me?”</p><p>Eddie put his face in his hands. “Jesus fucking Christ.”</p><p>“You do,” Richie lilted, taking a few steps forward. Eddie fought the sway of his body towards the other man like a magnet. “You have a cruuuuush on meeeee.”</p><p>“This is such middle school bulllshit,” Eddie muttered into his hands.</p><p>He startled when he felt Richie’s arms wrap around him, pulling him close into his chest, tucking Eddie’s forehead into his clavicle. Eddie completely froze.</p><p>“This okay?” Richie murmured and Eddie could only nod because <em>yes</em>.</p><p>Eddie suppressed a shiver when he breathed in and realized Richie smelled nice (again), like laundry and cloves and leather and something musky and masculine. He was warm and Eddie allowed himself to be bundled close. He found himself clutching onto Richie’s jacket, like it was a life preserver and it was the only thing keeping him from drowning.</p><p>The overwhelming feeling of smallness hit him again and he found himself burrowing in even more, tentative hands gingerly touching Richie’s shirt inside his jacket.</p><p>“Shhhh,” Richie shushed, putting his chin on top of Eddie’s head. “I know it’s embarrassing. I won’t tell anyone about your gross boner for me.”</p><p>Eddie groaned in the embrace and thumped Richie’s chest before twisting his ugly shirt in his fist.</p><p>“Why the fuck do I like you?”</p><p>Richie let out a dramatic sigh. “I don’t know. You have terrible taste and you have no one to blame but yourself.”</p><p>Eddie stiffened a bit when he felt Richie tip him back. A little flare of panic thrummed through him. Was Richie going to kiss him? Did he want to be kissed? That’s what people did after admitting a romantic intention, right? They kiss? It had been a long time. What if he’d forgotten how to do it?</p><p>But Richie just gazed down at him, a small serene smile on his face.</p><p>“I owe Bill fourteen dollars.”</p><p>“What?” Eddie sputtered, a startled laugh shaking out of him, his nerves suddenly disappearing.</p><p>“I bet him that you were gonna bolt and he said you wouldn’t and the bet was fourteen dollars,” Richie explained, as if it was normal.</p><p>He slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and started walking again, dragging him along.</p><p>“Wow,” Eddie drawled, tone dry as the Sahara, “fourteen whole dollars. I’m worth a lot to you, huh?”</p><p>“It was literally the only cash I had on me at the time,” Richie defended. “Trust me, your dowry will be much, much bigger if I’m allowed to throw bitcoin into the mix.”</p><p>“Ugh,” Eddie grunted, disgusted. “Of course you invested in bitcoin. Do you have any idea how unstable cryptocurrency is?”</p><p>“An unstable currency for an unstable man.” Richie winked at him and Eddie felt his whole body flush again.</p><p>Jesus Christ.</p><p>Eddie once again sounded a little too affectionate when he muttered, “You’re so fucking stupid.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>PROGRESS?</p><p>In MY story??</p><p>It’s more likely than you’d think!!!</p><p> </p><p> <br/>The kudos and comments feed me and are like free serotonin so thank you &lt;3</p><p> </p><p>Next update will likely be next Sunday </p><p> </p><p>Here’s the inspiration for Richie’s party outfit: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/66/5c/14/665c14589087f84c81411a0ecb7b1d4a.jpg</p><p>and this is the shirt mentioned in the beginning, which I have been trying to trick someone into buying for me for roughly 10 years: https://cusstee.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/21769-42.jpg</p><p> </p><p>you can find me on tumblr or twitter if you want to know where I buried the treasure (hint - the treasure is the friendships we made along the way):<br/>https://fullofbeansandspunk.tumblr.com/<br/>https://twitter.com/shwahaha</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Whatever we deny or embrace  (aka Eddie Finally Cracks)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just guys being dudes. Just dudes being guys. Just guys being gay!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We are now entering sexy town, gentlethem. Gird your butts.</p><p>This temporarily turns into a songfic because I’m a slut for 80’s music</p><p>Also a light trigger warning for a very brief mention of internalized homophobia. Again, very short and it’s more tied to Eddie’s mom’s issues than anything else</p><p> </p><p>(Sorry for this being a bit late)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <span class="u"> <em>Eddie</em> </span>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>They were in the subway when it happened.</p><p>Richie made him go see a movie, a remake of some garbage film from the 70’s (“Death Wish is not garbage,” he had insisted. “Charles Bronson was a genius unappreciated in his time”). It was incredibly bad. They had sat, arms pressed close, Richie whispering idiotic shit as Eddie tried not to laugh. He kept referring to Bruce Willis as John Deathwish and any time he shot or maimed someone, he would mutter, “Eddie, as a doctor, are they gonna be okay?” - with utter sincerity, even when a guy’s head was literally blown to pieces.</p><p>Luckily the theater was almost-entirely empty but that didn’t stop Eddie from shushing him, feeling his face heat when Richie would giggle and slouch even closer.</p><p>Afterwards, Richie had smiled down at him, bouncing on his heels.</p><p>“Wanna get pizza?” he’d asked, eyes incredibly warm, and Eddie fought a surge of affection.</p><p>“I’m lactose intolerant.”</p><p>Richie made a face. “Pretty sure pizza doesn’t count.”</p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes. “It <em>does</em>, but fine - I’ll take a fucking lactaid.”</p><p>Richie said they needed to take a train to a “good spot”, which seemed insane to Eddie as there were hundreds of good spots in New York and they probably didn’t need to take a train to get to one. But Richie seemed <em>very</em> enthusiastic so Eddie just humored him and said sure, whatever, as long as Richie would shut the fuck up about it.</p><p>So now they were walking, side-by-side, Eddie complaining that Richie could walk faster with less work. Richie was offering increasingly absurd solutions (“let me give you a piggy-back ride,” “buy some heelies,” “or platform shoes,” “OR someone to carry you in one of those king chairs everywhere,” “I know! Leg extension surgery!” ) when he suddenly halted, cocking his head. He seemed to listen to something for a second before grinning.</p><p>“Come on,” he breathed, excited. He turned from the direction they had been going and started loping up a set of stairs. “This is one of my favorite songs,” he called over his shoulder. Eddie hurried to keep up, picking up on the song himself.</p><p><em>Only You</em>.</p><p>They rounded a corner and there she was, some young street busker with a guitar. A man with a keyboard accompanied her.</p><p>They stopped to listen - she was competent with her playing but the acoustics of the keyboard were off and a bit loud for Eddie’s taste.</p><p>Then she opened her mouth to sing, voice deep and lovely.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Looking from a window above, it's like a story of love<br/>
Can you hear me<br/>
Came back only yesterday<br/>
I'm moving further away<br/>
Want you near me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All I needed was the love you gave<br/>
All I needed for another day<br/>
And all I ever knew<br/>
Only you</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Eddie tore his eyes away, trying to come back to earth with some kind of criticism but whatever smart alec thing he was about to say died on his lips when he caught sight of Richie.</p><p>His eyes were crinkled up in delight, fingers tapping a bit on his thigh. He was mouthing the words and swayed slightly, dark curls shifting in the wind created by the trains moving beneath them. His shoulders were relaxed, mouth upturned at the corners, eyes bright in the strange subway station lights. He looked pale, oddly young.</p><p>Eddie felt like all of the air had been sucked from his lungs, unable to look away, wanting to reach out. He felt a sudden swell of shame at it, his mother’s voice entering his head for one awful moment (“Boys are disgusting, Eddie”), almost making him drop his gaze, before abject fury fueled him and he began internally stamping at the guilt.</p><p>This wasn’t shameful, he knew that.</p><p>It wasn’t.</p><p>Not allowing himself to think about it for another moment, he grabbed Richie’s hand and entwined their fingers. Richie’s were long - piano player’s fingers, Eddie thought nonsensically. His palm was dry and warm.</p><p>The world didn’t end.</p><p>No one even looked at them.</p><p>The other man stopped swaying and glanced over to him in surprise before something very soft took over his features. His glasses glinted as he looked down, delight lighting up his face as he looked at their joined hands.</p><p>It suddenly wasn’t enough and Eddie needed more, he needed… something, so he tugged on Richie’s hand. He followed easily enough, allowing himself to be led to a small alcove.</p><p>“What -” he began asking before Eddie shoved him against the wall, leaving him shielded from the crowds walking by. He let out a startled laugh. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, sounding like he was completely on board with whatever was possessing Eddie.</p><p>Eddie hesitated, unsure of what was allowed. What was okay. But Richie had said he was into him, right? He’d said he wanted to make out with him. He was allowed to touch.</p><p>Did Eddie want that?</p><p>Taking a breath, Eddie crowded in on him, touching his face, his hair. They were fleeting as he couldn’t decide on where to land his hands, everything feeling like too much and not enough all at once. Richie’s hair was softer than he’d imagined, his cheeks slightly rough with stubble. He had a sudden strange urge to lick Richie’s neck. What was even happening?</p><p>Richie peered into his face.</p><p>“Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”</p><p>He said it so gently, like Eddie was precious, and that’s what made whatever was trying to get out of Eddie’s chest break free. He made some strange desperate noise, like an animal, and grabbed Richie by the sides of his face, dragging him down into a bruising kiss.</p><p>Richie let out a surprised “mmph” before getting with the program and tilting his head, grasping Eddie back just as tightly. His lips were slightly chapped but he ran his tongue over the seam of Eddie’s mouth and Eddie made a deep sound again, alien to his own ears and slid his hands up into Richie’s hair, pressing them chest to chest.</p><p>Eddie was on fire.</p><p>Richie deepened the kiss, tongue suddenly in Eddie’s mouth and this was so different from the other times Eddie had done this, he wasn’t grossed out at all, he barely even thought about how dirty the human mouth was, he just felt a laser-focus on how Richie swiped his tongue along Eddie’s soft palate. Richie made a small, helpless noise and sagged down the wall so they were on slightly more even footing, consequently sending one of his legs between Eddie’s.</p><p>Before he could really even think about it, Eddie jerked away at the contact, falling against the opposite wall.</p><p>They just sat there for a moment, gasping at each other. Richie’s eyes were wide, his lips were red and a little slick. Glasses slightly askew. Eddie could feel his pulse in his entire body.</p><p>“Okay,” Richie croaked, voice hoarse before he cleared it. “Ah, okay.” He didn’t move. “That was unexpected.” Eddie could see the wheels turning in his head. “Was it the song?” he asked, befuddled.</p><p>Eddie gave a short jerking shake of his head. “No.”</p><p>“The subway?”</p><p>“No.” Eddie swallowed. “It was you.”</p><p>Richie looked floored by this piece of information.</p><p>“Okay,” he said again, almost to himself. He seemed like he was trying to gather his thoughts, adjusting his glasses. “So that was… you were cool with that?”</p><p>Eddie stared at the ground, his own wheels turning. Was he?</p><p>“Yes,” he blurted out. “Very much so.”</p><p>“Cool,” Richie murmured, distracted. “Cool cool cool. Coolio.”</p><p>Eddie felt a helpless laugh bubble out of him. “Are <em>you</em> okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. It looked insane. Eddie must have messed it up. He felt a shiver run through him. “Yeah, I just need a minute.”</p><p>Eddie swallowed. “We should probably go get our train.”</p><p>“Right.” Richie started to stand to his full height before his face turned red and he slumped again. “I just. Can you stop looking at me? For a second?” Eddie stared at him, perplexed. “It’s not helping the situation,” Richie explained through gritted teeth, gesturing to his crotch region.</p><p>“Oh! Oh, shit.” Eddie could feel his pulse picking up again even though he couldn’t see anything from how Richie was standing. “For real?”</p><p>Richie made a slightly manic gesture, like <em>come on, man!</em></p><p>Eddie took pity and stepped around the corner. He heard Richie muttering to himself, something that sounded oddly like the Konami code along with (incorrect) baseball facts.</p><p>When he reappeared, he still looked slightly haggard but gave Eddie a smile and grabbed his hand.</p><p>“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>---------------------</p>
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    <em> <span class="u">Richie</span> </em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Richie felt like maybe the world was tilting on its axis.</p><p>Eddie had kissed him.</p><p>Fucking Eddie.</p><p>Eddie. Had. Kissed. Him.</p><p>He made it through pizza alright - they had fallen back into their usual snippy banter but Richie felt absolutely off his dick with giddy joy.</p><p>When Richie asked if Eddie wanted to get a drink somewhere, Eddie shrugged.</p><p>“It’s kinda late,” he said and Richie was already nodding before he’d even finished saying the words.</p><p>He was cool with this. He was. It wasn’t that he expected anything, he didn’t. He just… he wanted to spend as much time with Eddie as he’d allow. He knew, deep down in his bones, that the only way to get there was to make sure Eddie knew he didn’t want anything out of him.</p><p>“Yeah, of course, that’s fine,” he responded, maybe a bit too hasty.</p><p>Eddie gave him a bit of an amused look. “I was gonna say I have alcohol at my place if you wanted to come up.”</p><p>Richie stalled out, brain flatlining for a moment before rebooting.</p><p>“Oh?” he said, voice a little too high and response a little too delayed. “That’s, that would be.” He swallowed and Eddie smirked. “Yeah, yep, I’m down. If you’re sure.”</p><p>Eddie studied him, a little more serious now. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and looked down. “But just to hang out,” he clarified.</p><p>Richie nodded quickly, struck by an odd sense of relief about being back on familiar footing.</p><p>“Right, yeah, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>So now he was in Eddie’s fucking apartment (it was about as clean and tidy and impersonal as Richie had expected - Eddie let out a despairing sigh when Richie pointed out that Patrick Bateman would approve), drinking a very nice whiskey and listening to Eddie bitch about work.</p><p>Richie was in heaven.</p><p>“Everyone just complains about the dumbest shit all the time,” Eddie continued, on a tear. “Like Ted, you’d fucking <em>hate</em> Ted, one time he reported one of the front desk people at our facility because he caught her eating a sandwich in the stairwell outside of her allotted break time. She was a temp so she got <em>fired</em>.” He scoffed, taking an angry drink. “Like why the fuck does he even care if she needs to eat? He’s such an asshole.”</p><p>Richie raised an eyebrow. “Did you say anything?”</p><p>Eddie blanched a little, embarrassed. “Well, I mean, I contested the fact that she got fired but I didn’t say anything directly to him because…” He ran a hand over his jaw. “... He’s kinda already filed an HR complaint against me.”</p><p>Richie couldn’t help but laugh, delighted. “For <em>what?</em>”</p><p>Chagrined but obviously getting angry again, Eddie frowned, going full badger.</p><p>“One time I saw him throw trash out of his window in the parking garage so I pointed out that he’d littered and there was a trash can literally like four feet away and he said he was just giving the janitors something to do. And to mind my own fucking business.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, looking a bit embarrassed once more. “So I, uh, kind of lost it and dumped trash into his window.”</p><p>Richie gaped at him for a moment before tipping his head back and cackling. “Holy shit, dude!”</p><p>Eddie’s mouth twisted, obviously a little pleased by Richie’s reaction.</p><p>“HR determined that his behavior was also inappropriate but I still got a warning.”</p><p>“What a piece of shit,” Richie said with feeling, shaking his head. “And they’re all like that? The people you work with?”</p><p>“A good number of them.” Eddie shrugged. “The whole industry isn’t… great.”</p><p>Richie gave him a small smile. “Why not get into another industry?”</p><p>Eddie fidgeted. “I’ve thought about it. A lot.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Like going to a real hospital. But it’s… it’s challenging. Changing your career, at my age?” He let out a forced disbelieving laugh.</p><p>Richie studied him - the way he was averting his gaze, the slump of his shoulders. He got the feeling that Eddie was used to telling himself “no” quite a bit. He’d wondered if he was just reciting something someone else had said to him before.</p><p>“Well, you’d still be doing the same thing, technically, so it’s more of a lateral move than a total career change, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine,” Richie reasoned. “Just… you’re in your 40’s - you’re not dead.” He chuckled and Eddie shot him a sharp glance, brow furrowed. “Also you have more hutzpah than any other human being on the fucking planet so you’d be able to make it work if you wanted it to.” Richie couldn’t help but grin. “I mean, shit, if you told me that trash story in an interview I’d hire you on the spot.”</p><p>Eddie blinked at him as Richie downed his drink. He checked his phone and let out a low whistle.</p><p>“It’s getting late, I should probably hit the ole dusty trail,” he said, yawning in spite of himself, jaw popping.</p><p>Eddie drummed his fingers on the back of the couch. He had a slightly squirrelly expression on his face.</p><p>“Or you, uh.” He met Richie’s eye for a moment before looking away. “You could crash here.”</p><p>Richie froze, suddenly not remotely tired anymore.</p><p>“Crash here?” he parroted. Not wanting to push his luck, he jangled his leg and ran an assessing hand on the couch. “Sure. This couch seems comfortable enough.”</p><p>Eddie fixed him with a look but Richie noticed how he was drumming his fingers even more rapidly now.</p><p>“No, dipshit, you couldn’t fit on this thing.” He shrugged, nonchalant, but Richie could spot his ears turning red. “We can, uh, share the bed.”</p><p>Richie tapped his foot faster. “Share. Right. That’s fine. If you’re, uh, sure.”</p><p>Eddie’s eyes darted to meet his before looking at the ceiling. “I’m not - I’m not saying anything’s going to happen.”</p><p>“Right,” Richie hastened to agree, nodding, once again wondering why he felt kind of relieved. He supposed maybe there was some pressure there if Eddie suddenly declared that he wanted to go to the bone zone. “Right, of course. I can share a bed with someone nonsexually. I do it all the time.”</p><p>Eddie quirked an eyebrow. “You do?”</p><p>Richie opened his mouth, pausing. “Well, no, not recently but growing up, yeah.” He let out a forced laugh. “And I was, like, horny all the time so if I could manage it then…” He trailed off, wincing. “Actually, I can just go.”</p><p>He moved to get up but Eddie’s hand grabbed his bicep.</p><p>“Richie,” he said, calmer now. “It’s fine. Just stay.”</p><p>Richie let out a long breath. “Okay, yeah,” he said. He rubbed the back of his neck before jamming a thumb over his shoulder. “Is it okay if I make a call real quick?” At Eddie’s confused look, he was quick to add, “It’s Stan, we just… I told him I’d call him.”</p><p>Eddie’s face turned bemused. “Do you usually call Stan before bed?” He checked his watch. “At almost two in the morning?”</p><p>Richie started tapping his foot again. “I might have, uh, told him I’d let him know how things went.”</p><p>Eddie pressed his lips together, eyes amused. “<em>Sure</em>. Go call him, I’ll get ready for bed. Take your time.”</p><p>“Cool,” Richie breathed. “Dope. Sick. Thanks.”</p><p>Eddie shot him a smile as he left for the bathroom and Richie ducked out on the patio. It was pretty cold.</p><p>“Please pick up,” he muttered into his phone as it rang. “Please pick up, please pick up.”</p><p>“Richie,” Stan’s groggy voice was tinny on the other end, “I hope the only reason you’re calling me this late is because you got hit by a car again.”</p><p>Richie scoffed, pacing. “That happened one time, we can’t act like that’s a recurring problem.”</p><p>“It happened once, which is one time more than it has happened to anyone else I know.” Stan sighed. “What’s up, are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Richie clarified quickly, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m good, it’s just… Eddie invited me to stay over.” He bounced on his heels, jittery. “He also kissed me.”</p><p>There was a pause. “Are you calling me so I can congratulate you?” Stan asked, clearly irritated.</p><p>“No!” Richie insisted before sighing. “I’m just… what if I fuck this up? I still don’t even know if he’s interested in sex. What if I blow this? What if I make him uncomfortable?”</p><p>“... I don’t know?” Stan answered, now sounding a bit mystified. “Why did you even call me about this? I’m sure Bev or Bill would have more insight.”</p><p>Richie squeezed the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“No. Listen, you can’t tell them I said this but, uh…” He sighed. “You’ve been the most normal about the whole gay thing. I don’t need support or an ally right now, I need someone to be mean and tell me if I’m about to be a dumb piece of shit. You’re my best friend and the only one who doesn’t act like this is a big deal all the time.”</p><p>There was a long pause. “Well,” Stan finally said, sounding pleased, “that’s because it <em>isn’t</em> a big deal but thank you. I’ll try to not rub it in everyone’s face.” He hummed on the other end. “I mean, I guess just… don’t be a piece of shit about it?”</p><p>Richie barked out a laugh. “Ohhh! Why didn’t I think of that?” he mocked. “Real fucking helpful, Uris.”</p><p>“Shut up,” Stan muttered. “I’m just saying - like, you’re both guys. Just follow his lead, right? I mean, he doesn’t seem worried about telling you to fuck off so just listen if he does.”</p><p>Holy shit.</p><p>“Oh my God,” Richie breathed, sincere, literally smacking himself in the forehead. “I can <em>follow his lead!</em> Stan, you’re a genius.”</p><p>He heard Stan chuckle. “Yeah, idiot. Now as riveting as this is, I need to go back to bed.”</p><p>“Okay. Thank you, Stan,” Richie said, trying to be sincere yet still hating how soft and vulnerable he sounded. “I do really appreciate it.”</p><p>Stan sighed. “Of course, Trashmouth. Good luck. Love you.” And with that he was gone.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Richie stood, fidgeting beside the bed. He was in a borrowed t-shirt - it was from some work function of Eddie’s, a random marathon because of course Eddie was capable of running a marathon. Of <em>course</em>. It was just slightly too small and sat right at his boxers.</p><p>He felt naked.</p><p>“So, uh, do you prefer a side?” he asked Eddie.</p><p>Eddie paused, considering. He also looked a little lost.</p><p>“Um. Right, I guess?”</p><p>His bed was in the middle of the room, like an adult. Richie’s own bed was against the wall.</p><p>Richie let out a forced chuckle. “So I’m closer to the door in case there’s an intruder?”</p><p>Eddie huffed, posture relaxing a bit. “I’ll be nearer to the window.”</p><p>“You don’t have a fire escape,” Richie pointed out. “No intruders are coming through that window.”</p><p>Eddie thought for a moment. “Thieves can scale walls.”</p><p>Richie snorted. “What thieves? Movie thieves? Fictional movie thieves that don’t exist and climb walls using giant suction cups?”</p><p>Eddie wrinkled his nose before putting his hands on his hips, slightly superior expression on his face.</p><p>“If there’s a storm or an earthquake or something, the glass could shatter.”</p><p>Richie couldn’t help the affectionate smile he broke into. “Fine, I’ll take the door side. Since we’re facing equal imminent dangers.”</p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes and got in but Richie found himself hanging back, fidgeting his bare feet on the floor.</p><p>“You sure you’re sure about this?” he felt compelled to ask.</p><p>Eddie made a despairing noise and threw up his hands. “Yes! If I stop being sure, I’ll fucking kick you out. Happy?”</p><p>Richie smiled. “Delighted.”</p><p>He scooched into the bed, placing his glasses and phone on the bedside table, and snuggled down, sighing as Eddie switched off the light. It was a large bed and he noted how far away Eddie seemed. Not that he had a problem with it - he was still shocked he was there at all.</p><p>The bed smelled like Eddie.</p><p><em>Bad train of thought,</em> he chided himself. <em>Switch gears.</em></p><p>He also had nice sheets and Richie enjoyed how they felt against his legs.</p><p>That was safer.</p><p>He could just barely see Eddie shooting him a look, even in the low light.</p><p>“Why are you squirming around?” he asked. He didn’t quite sound annoyed so Richie didn’t stop.</p><p>“Your sheets are nice.” He moved his legs around again. “I feel all slippery like a seal.”</p><p>Eddie huffed out a disbelieving, but also kind of fond, laugh. “You’re so fucking weird.”</p><p>Richie willed himself to stop. There was silence for a moment before he blurted out, “Uh, full disclosure but sometimes I’m a sleep-cuddler. Just shove me away if that happens.”</p><p>Eddie made a sleepy noise and Richie’s stomach fluttered.</p><p>“Fine,” Eddie mumbled. “Thanks for the warning.”</p><p>Richie was starting to feel a bit sleepy himself now that the nerves of anything happening were leaving him.</p><p>“I just wanted to let you know. But if I do, I won’t get mad if you fart on me.”</p><p>Eddie made a sound, like he was very annoyed and tired but trying not to laugh.</p><p>“What?” he finally managed.</p><p>“Since you’re ‘lactose intolerant’,” Richie said with air-quotes that he was fairly sure Eddie didn’t see. “And just put away a lot of pizza.”</p><p>“Well I took medication, jackass, so it’ll be fine,” Eddie grumbled.</p><p>“I just think it’s nonsense,” Richie continued, sleepy and rambling. “Like all people are technically a little lactose intolerant. Our bodies weren’t really built to process the enzymes in cow milk.” He made a vague gesture. “The point is, you gotta <em>build</em> the tolerance.”</p><p>He suddenly felt a hand on his arm and Eddie loomed over him. Richie swallowed.</p><p>“Richie,” Eddie said with great feeling, “shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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    <em> <span class="u">Eddie</span> </em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eddie stirred, checking his watch. It was early. It took him a moment to figure out why he was so warm and what had woken him when he felt breath on his neck and a long body pressed along his back.</p><p>Richie.</p><p>Well, he had warned that he was a sleep snuggler, Eddie reasoned, even as his pulse picked up a tiny bit. Richie had said to just shove him away.</p><p>But Eddie found himself unwilling and he shifted, a bit restless, before freezing when Richie made a strange guttural sound and he felt something against his ass. Eddie’s breath hitched, realizing what was happening.</p><p>Richie had an <em>erection</em>.</p><p>It was morning though - that was normal. That happened to Eddie sometimes, too, usually for no reason. Eddie might not be responsible at all for it. Was Richie even awake?</p><p>“Richie,” Eddie whispered, his voice odd to his own ears. It was all breathless and hoarse.</p><p>“Hmm?” Richie murmured into his ear. He sounded scratchy, low, baritone. Eddie felt the hair on his arms stand up, a strange shiver running through his body.</p><p>Eddie cleared his throat, his tongue feeling oddly large in his mouth. “You, um…”</p><p>He felt Richie move a bit as he woke up further before freezing. He must have realized his situation.</p><p>“Oh, shit, sorry,” he said, voice soft and contrite. “You know how it goes.” He started to move away.</p><p>Almost of its own volition, Eddie’s hand darted out and reached behind him, grabbing Richie’s hip and holding him in place.</p><p>“Hang…” he cleared his throat again, “hang on.”</p><p>Eddie could almost perfectly picture Richie’s eyebrow quirk.</p><p>“‘<em>Hang on</em>’?” he replied incredulously.</p><p>“Just - just wait a second,” Eddie clarified - meaning he clarified absolutely nothing as his brain still hadn’t caught up to what he actually wanted.</p><p>“Eddie,” Richie murmured, tone suddenly all sympathy, “it’s cool, we don’t have to -”</p><p>“Will you shut the fuck up?” Eddie hissed back, earning a slightly shocked inhale and a chuckle, “I’m trying to just… I’m figuring something out, okay?”</p><p>Richie took a very careful breath. “You’re figuring something out and it requires that my dick be against your ass?”</p><p>He sounded skeptical, which was fair.</p><p>Eddie felt his face heat up. “Yes.”</p><p>Richie said nothing for a long moment before he sighed and said, “Okay, man.”</p><p>“Okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, figure out away.” One of Richie’s hands left from the spot where it had been gripping Eddie’s bicep and his voice became muffled, like he now had it over his face. “Just know that, uh, if you finish figuring it out and you want me to fuck off, I won’t be mad but I <em>will</em> need the bathroom for at least two minutes.”</p><p>“Yeah, okay, fine,” Eddie muttered, distracted.</p><p>It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about this but in his thought experiments in the past, penises always seemed… daunting. Both a known and unknown. They were weird and ugly and seeing the scant amount of porn he’d watched didn’t help that notion. He knew he didn’t really like looking at them at all. The big ones were terrifying, usually. Generally.</p><p>But Richie’s felt… pretty sizable. Not that Eddie had any experience for reference.</p><p>Whatever.</p><p>The thing <em>was</em> though: Eddie didn’t hate this. He really didn’t hate it. It was almost strange to admit it to himself. He had basically already accepted that he didn’t find the idea of messing around with Richie to be totally disgusting and maybe he was sort of obsessed with the other man, with looking at him, and smelling him, and preoccupied with the idea of touching him all the time, and he kind of hated all of that. It was like he was possessed by some sort of goblin that made him suddenly give a shit about another person’s body.</p><p>Now, in actual practice, the idea didn’t seem bad at all. It seemed like something he now felt he could maybe get enthusiastic about.</p><p>And Richie, the heat of him against the curve of his ass, it felt… it felt....</p><p>Almost without intention, Eddie ground backwards just a little bit. He felt Richie freeze again, a small exhale escaping him that sounded like he was trying not to groan. That shivery feeling came back.</p><p>“Eds…” Richie muttered, a slight warning to his tone. “Is this part of figuring it out or are you fucking with me?”</p><p>“It could be both,” Eddie replied, almost to himself as he moved his hips again. A hand suddenly dug into his side before loosening.</p><p>“Sorry,” Richie said, breath hitching.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Eddie quipped.</p><p>“Is it?!” Richie laughed, almost hysterical. “I know we, like, talked about you maybe being chill with sexual shit but, like, I thought that would take a decent amount of time.”</p><p>“That’s sweet,” Eddie intoned maybe a little meanly, “but like I said, I’m fucking figuring it out, okay?”</p><p>“All <em>I’m</em> trying to advise here,” Richie ground out, his hands tightening on Eddie again as he wiggled a bit more boldly, “is that I hope you won’t be mad at me if I come because you’re doing an experiment.”</p><p>A small thrill thrummed through Eddie’s body and he realized, probably far too belatedly, that he was also hard. He suddenly felt a little dizzy.</p><p>“You could come just from me doing this?” he asked, doubtful, voice weird and husky to his own ears.</p><p>Richie gave a slightly helpless laugh. “Some men are, like, more sensitive to certain stimuli,” he rambled, like Eddie thought it was a bad thing. “It’s a thing. It’s normal, probably. Also I’ve had a boner for you ever since you first called me an idiot so pardon me for getting turned on too fast.”</p><p>“No, that’s like…” Eddie searched for the words, his head swimming as he felt Richie’s body somehow get even hotter, the focal point being the place trapped against him, his breaths against Eddie’s neck odd and panting and hitching every time Eddie pushed backwards. “That’s, uh, kind of gratifying and, uhhhhh,” (stupid, stupid, the words were stupid and idiotic) “hot.”</p><p>Richie pressed his face into the back of Eddie’s neck, squirming into him. Every point where they touched felt electrified.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Richie muttered, his breath hot. Every part of him was so <em>hot</em>. Face, breath, dick. “Holy shit. Why are you like this?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Eddie grunted, pushing back again. Richie made a little high-pitched keening sound. “This is your fault.”</p><p>Richie let out a weird laugh. Eddie rocked into him and he gasped.</p><p>“How the fuck is this my fault?” he demanded, breathless while snaking his other arm around Eddie’s chest from underneath them, hauling him even closer.</p><p>Eddie ground into him.</p><p>“You’ve cast some kind of dick magic on me,” he muttered, senseless.</p><p>Richie made an odd noise, like the wind was being knocked out of him and pulled Eddie closer by the hip.</p><p>“So this is doing something for you?” Richie asked, voice thin and desperate and disbelieving.</p><p>Following another whim after a series of increasingly-audacious whims, Eddie grabbed the hand Richie was using to grasp his hip and shoved it onto his own fully-hard dick. It lacked any finesse and probably wasn’t sexy but as soon as Eddie grunted, “What do you think?” Richie’s entire body seized as he shoved into Eddie, grunting, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” and Eddie felt his dick pulsing against his back.</p><p>The movement also caused Richie to apply a sudden delightful pressure to Eddie’s own erection and with a choked-off noise, Eddie’s toes curled and he was overwhelmed by an onslaught of sensations (Richie’s hand on his dick, pressed against his back, his other arm suddenly tightening against his chest, fumbling on one of Eddie’s nipples, his teeth in Eddie’s shoulder, what the <em>fuck</em>), and to his complete and utter surprise his own orgasm suddenly crested and he shuddered his release, sight blacking out at the corners.</p><p>They both lay there panting for a moment, the stars clearing from Eddie’s eyes as he felt the muscles twitch in his abdomen and legs.</p><p>He felt Richie shaking and for a moment he worried until he realized the other man was <em>laughing</em>.</p><p>“Dude,” he gasped, still clutching onto Eddie. “Are you fucking <em>kidding</em> me right now?”</p><p>Eddie winced. “Sorry,” he muttered, contrite.</p><p>“<em>Dude</em>.” Eddie resisted for a moment to the hand pushing insistently at his shoulder before allowing himself to be rolled onto his back. He put his hands over his face but he could feel Richie leaning over him. “No,” Richie said, still laughing a little and pulling at his hands. “That was a good ‘are you fucking kidding me,’ not a bad one.”</p><p>“I can’t believe I just did that,” Eddie groaned into his palms. Richie stopped trying to remove them from his face. “What are you turning me into? Is this what it’s like to want to fuck somebody? I feel insane.”</p><p>“Sorry, bud,” Richie chuckled, not sounding sorry at all. “Welcome to the club.”</p><p>Eddie sighed and flopped his hands down. He could only look into Richie’s eyes for a moment before it became too much and he turned his gaze to the ceiling, face feeling incredibly hot. Richie reached over to get his glasses from the bedside table. His hair was a fucking mess.</p><p>Eddie was on fire.</p><p>“I blame you for this,” he muttered. ”You’ve poisoned me. Everything I heard about the gay agenda was true.”</p><p>Richie snorted. “Well, if you hate it so much, we never have to do anything like that again,” he said reasonably. “And I can just -” he moved to get up and, <em>again</em> without his brain’s permission, Eddie found himself grabbing Richie, stopping him.</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, no,” Eddie muttered, frowning even harder when Richie cackled. “For the record, I want this more than I hate it.”</p><p>“Reasonable,” Richie hummed, propping his chin on his fist. He smirked down at Eddie, who was still trying to decipher the meaning of life from the ceiling. “You okay?” he asked after a moment, tone a bit more serious. “Dick magic or not, I wasn’t bullshitting you about this not being necessary for me. If you ever want to pump the brakes…”</p><p>Eddie waved a dismissing hand. “No, yeah, I actually believe you. I just…” he trailed off, trying to find the words. He’d never tried to really put it into full, comprehensible sentences before - even during their previous conversation, Eddie felt like he’d been vague and hadn’t offered anything concrete. Like a real explanation. But he wanted to.</p><p>“Like I said, generally I don’t give a shit about this stuff. I’m not necessarily actively disgusted by it even though it <em>is</em> disgusting and I’m literally sitting here with your cum on my back and my cum in my underwear which is so gross, but usually all I feel is apathy about it. Like I can get hard given some friction or whatever and have sex but I don’t really give a shit.” Eddie scrubbed a hand over his face. “Usually, I don’t get it. I don’t get any of it. I don’t get why people do crazy shit to get laid because, like, who cares?”</p><p>He noted that Richie was nodding, which was generous given the fact that Eddie was pretty sure this made no sense.</p><p>“But <em>you</em>,” Eddie continued, maybe a little accusatory, “you literally make me crazy and for some reason I wanted to lick you the other day?” Richie’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “I want to, like, bite your fingers sometimes. It’s absurd. I feel insane. And I thought maybe I was just fixated on you for some weird reason but now I’m like 100% sure it’s sexual because you being hard <em>made me hard</em>.” Richie’s eyes looked slightly glazed. “That doesn’t happen to me! What next? Am I gonna want you to piss on me? Eat your hair? What is this? How the fuck do you people deal with feeling this way all the time about other people? It’s awful.”</p><p>Richie stopped him with a hand on Eddie’s heart. “Eddie, I mean this sincerely: I would let you eat my hair any time.”</p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he grumbled.</p><p>Richie took one of his hands in both of his. “I would let you step on me and shit in my mouth if that’s what the demon that’s clearly taken possession of your dick wants.”</p><p>Eddie made a face, gagging. “Holy shit, gross, no.”</p><p>Richie grinned, jostling his hands. “There we go, see? You still have boundaries! You’re not suddenly… not you.” Richie let his hands go and ran his fingers through his hair. Eddie took a deep breath through his nose as he fought the urge to grab his hands and yank his hair himself. “And, look, this might be a temporary thing. Which is fine! You might go back to how you felt before. Which, again, is <em>fine</em>. And if you have urges but they make you feel weird and not like yourself, you can ignore them and I won’t get mad.”</p><p>Eddie narrowed his eyes. “So you’re saying if I suddenly tell you I think your dick is gross, you won’t be upset?”</p><p>Richie made a face. “I mean, it would be dope if you could say it in a way that’s less hurtful but I’d be cool with the overall message, yeah.”</p><p>Eddie blinked, his eyes feeling strange and misty. “That’s not really fair to you,” he said, voice small.</p><p>Richie made a noise, his hands smoothing over Eddie’s hair and forehead and the sides of his face. “Me requiring that you act a certain way just for my dick needs isn’t fair to you.”</p><p>Eddie made a small distressed noise. “Why are you like this?” Then, with greater feeling, “Why do you like <em>me</em>?” It felt pathetic to ask but he really needed to know.</p><p>“You’re mean,” Richie explained, grinning, but his eyes were soft. “You’re aggressively angry all the time and yet are friends with two of the nicest people I’ve ever met. You have this sense of justice that’s staggering and you’re really brave, even when I know you’re scared. You have almost no filter which is incredible to witness. People seem genuinely terrified of you since you act like an unhinged demon sometimes. You like kids. You’ve been through a lot of bullshit yet are still this little spunky hellion. You threw <em>trash</em> into some asshole’s window.” Richie shrugged, helpless. “I think you inspire strong emotions and, lucky for me, the emotion you’ve inspired is absolute devotion.”</p><p>Eddie blinked at him, face hot and mouth dry.</p><p>“You’re such a dumb piece of shit,” he muttered, before yanking Richie down into a kiss.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have only seen the original Death Wish but I assume some guy’s head gets blown apart in the new one since Eli Roth was involved</p><p>Did anyone get set on fire? I’m guessing someone got set on fire. </p><p>Next chapter will be up sometime next week because I decided to add a part and I'm still working on it! That'll be the last chapter before the epilogue</p><p> </p><p>you can find me on tumblr or twitter, where I definitely will pretend to not know what you’re talking about if you publicly address my kissing stories:<br/>https://fullofbeansandspunk.tumblr.com/<br/>https://twitter.com/shwahaha</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Baby, I was afraid before, but I'm not afraid anymore (aka Words That Need To Be Said Get Said)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our intrepid heroes go on dinner dates, fall prey to some sitcom pitfalls and have an emotional moment in a Trader Joe’s (which is up there with Ikea when it comes to relationship tests).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We trying to earn that explicit tag today, comrades!</p><p>This chapter is slightly more disjointed with a few time jumps but hopefully you can follow.</p><p> </p><p>Last chapter will be shorter and I'll probably post it tomorrow!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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    <em> <span class="u">Eddie</span> </em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eddie didn’t like cooking. He generally approached it from a purely pragmatic standpoint - his body needed fuel and, yeah, he liked going out to eat and indulging sometimes but everyday meals were generally an exercise in efficiency. He’d run, eat some steamed veggies and chicken, maybe have a beer or whiskey. He liked nice coffee with his overnight oats but beyond that, he didn’t really give a shit.</p><p>That was what made him offering to cook for Richie so fucking baffling.</p><p>He had simply asked Richie if he felt like hanging out that night - he was taking his lunch at the surgical center and, as was becoming a habit, he called Richie. He initially had made the excuse that it was so he didn’t have to talk to the morons at work but he knew Richie was pleased every time Eddie made the choice to call him.</p><p>“Tonight?” Richie made a tutting noise. “Technically I have some writing I’m supposed to do. I have a meeting with my manager tomorrow and he’s gonna be on my ass if I don’t at least have an outline.”</p><p>Eddie bit his lip, glancing around the breakroom. A few of his colleagues were eying him, probably wondering who in the hell Eddie was actually talking to. <em>Again</em>. He angled away from them.</p><p>“I, uh, could just come over and hang out.” He wasn’t sure why he felt nervous - possibly it was because Richie had never turned him down before or maybe it was because they hadn’t really ever hung out at Richie’s. “We could eat together and you could still work.”</p><p>Richie made an indecisive noise. “Wouldn’t that be boring for you?”</p><p>Eddie ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, there’re plenty of things I could call you but boring is never one of them.”</p><p>Richie let out a delighted laugh, obviously pleased by the backhanded compliment.</p><p>“Okay, I can’t promise I’ll be fun but we can order take-out or something.”</p><p>“Or I could cook,” Eddie offered before he even realized what he was saying. He winced.</p><p>“Really?” Richie sounded surprised but also very, very excited. “You’d wanna cook for me?”</p><p>Eddie resisted the urge to hit himself. “Sure,” he said instead of taking back the offer - Richie had sounded so happy about it.</p><p>“Okay,” Richie laughed, clearly thrilled. “Sounds good.”</p><p>“You <em>do</em> have, like, pots and shit right?” Eddie felt compelled to clarify.</p><p>Richie snorted. “I’m not a total degenerate.”</p><p>“Okay, okay.” Eddie paused, drumming his fingers on the table. “I’ll let you know when I can come by.”</p><p>“Okay,” Richie replied, voice soft.</p><p>There was a pregnant pause.</p><p>“See you later then,” Eddie finally continued, wincing at how awkward he sounded.</p><p>“Looking forward to it,” Richie replied, just a little mischievous and the call disconnected.</p><p>Eddie stared at his phone for a second before making a decision and opening his favorites to start another call.</p><p>He noticed that now his colleagues at the other table looked even more interested. Eddie, making <em>two</em> calls during his lunch?</p><p>He resisted the urge to scowl at them.</p><p>“Mike?” he said as soon as he heard the click.</p><p>“Hey Eddie, you okay?” Mike sounded a little concerned and Eddie could hear papers rustling on the other line.</p><p>“I might have fucked up,” Eddie whispered, trying to keep his voice down. “I told Richie I would cook for him. At his apartment.”</p><p>“Oh!” Mike no longer sounded concerned. He now just sounded borderline delighted. “That’s cool.”</p><p>“No, it’s not,” Eddie hissed. “Because now I have to cook for him.”</p><p>“Okay,” Mike said slowly, “but you’re a good cook so how is that a fuck up?”</p><p>Eddie wanted to pace but fucking Joanne was eyeballing him. He should have done this outside.</p><p>“Yeah, like health food shit! I don’t know how to cook for another person! In a, you know...” Eddie frowned and hunched over more to mutter, “<em>romantic</em> way.”</p><p>Mike paused. “Didn’t you used to cook for Myra?”</p><p>Eddie scoffed. “I tried but she always hated everything I made.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Mike hummed and Eddie frowned at the amused tone of his voice. “Maybe the difference this time will be that the food is made with love.”</p><p>Eddie resisted putting his head on the table. “You’re not fucking helping.”</p><p>Mike tsked and Eddie could hear some more rustling. “I’ll send you some recipes, okay? Even though I know you know how to google with your big doctor brain.”</p><p>Eddie chewed on his thumbnail. “What about that thing you used to make back in college - it was some kind of chicken deal?”</p><p>Mike paused. “The Tuscan chicken?”</p><p>“Yes!” Eddie said, probably a bit too enthusiastically since a few people turned to look at him. “Can you send me that? I figure anything you were able to make in a college set-up would cover the supplies Richie might have. He claims to have pots and shit but I remain skeptical.”</p><p>Mike chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll send it.”</p><p>“And a recipe for the potato thing?” Eddie prompted, hopeful.</p><p>He used to love that shit when Mike would make it on study nights back in the day. Eddie would show up, clearly starving and Mike would always sigh and give him a portion until he just started automatically making enough for two.</p><p>“<em>Fine</em>, though I’ll have you know I’m violating several sworn family secrets to give this to you.” Mike chuckled, fond. “But lord knows you’re family anyway.”</p><p>As per usual, the affection made Eddie feel pleased and a little twitchy.</p><p>“Thanks,” he mumbled, feeling his neck heat up. “You’re a life-saver.”</p><p>“I’m just trying to secure my place as best man,” Mike reasoned and Eddie choked on nothing. “I know Ben’s gonna vie for it pretty hard because he’s known you longer but he got to be best man in the last one.”</p><p>Eddie made a despairing noise. “Sure,” he replied hastily, face hot, “that’s not happening but whatever.”</p><p>Mike hummed again, sounding smug. “Sure, it’s not.”</p><p>“It isn’t,” Eddie insisted, not sure why except that he was annoyed that Mike seemed so confident.</p><p>“Okay,” Mike said back, calm and still annoyingly superior in his knowledge of the workings of Eddie’s mind. “But these aren’t the actions of someone who isn’t serious.”</p><p>Eddie made a despairing noise. “Stop pretending like you know what’s happening. You don’t. I might not even like him, you don’t know.”</p><p>Mike straight-up laughed at him for that one.</p><p>“Okay, Eddie.”</p><p>Eddie scowled. “I’m hanging up now.”</p><p>“Okay, Eddie.”</p><p>Eddie resisted growling. “Shut up. But also thanks.”</p><p>“Bye, Eddie!” Mike laughed, ending the call.</p><p>Eddie stared at his phone, fuming and feeling stupid for it. It was like being called out for having a crush. Only it was for having a crush on someone who he’d already admitted to liking and hooked up with.</p><p>With that thought, Eddie deflated. Why was he so fucking embarrassed about this? Why was he feeling so defensive? It wasn’t like he actually didn’t want people to think he liked Richie. He obviously did so what was the big deal?</p><p>He sighed as he remembered something Ben had said to him one time back in college.</p><p>“Vulnerability isn’t the same as being weak, Eddie,” he’d said, sitting in the bean bag chair in his dorm room when Eddie had come to visit him. “Neither are bad but they aren’t the same.” He gave Eddie that wide-eyed, sincere stare that was always almost heartbreakingly genuine. “You don’t have to be scared of it.”</p><p>“You’re so annoying when you’re high,” Eddie had grumbled back.</p><p>Eddie was startled out of reminiscing when his phone vibrated with two new texts.</p><p>They were the recipes from Mike.</p><p>Eddie bit his lip, and internally admitted that it probably was only fair if Mike got the next best man position (whenever that may or may not come to pass) before starting a shopping list.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
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  <p>
    <em> <span class="u">Richie</span> </em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry I’m late, shopping in this city is such a fucking nightmare,” Eddie said immediately upon seeing Richie when he got down to his lobby, a bit breathless as he juggled several very full shopping bags.</p><p>Richie laughed, eyes wide at how much he was carrying. The anxiety that had been slowly consuming him for the better part of the day about Eddie finally coming over dissipated slightly at how clearly frazzled the other man looked.</p><p>“Well,” Richie said, still laughing, “maybe it would have been easier if you weren’t trying to literally buy everything in the store.” He took a step forward. “Here, let me.” He grabbed a few bags out of Eddie’s hands.</p><p>Eddie looked a bit caught off guard by the offer to help - he furrowed his brow at his suddenly lighter load before offering Richie a tentative smile in thanks.</p><p>Richie led him to the elevators and bounced on his heels after pressing the button.</p><p>This would be fine. It would go well and it would be fine and Eddie wasn’t going to hate his place and Richie wasn’t going to blow it.</p><p>He felt Eddie watching him and tried to stop fidgeting.</p><p>“Thanks for letting me crash your writing night,” Eddie finally said, sending him another small smile.</p><p>Richie grinned and looked down, feeling oddly bashful. “Uh, well, thanks for cooking for me.” He shifted the bags in his hands and felt like he was under a microscope from how closely Eddie was studying him. “Hopefully my place isn’t too embarrassing.”</p><p>Eddie snorted and shook his head. “Can’t be any worse than ‘American Psycho.’”</p><p>Richie barked out a laugh and the elevator dinged - he let Eddie get on first before following, pressing the button for his floor.</p><p>“That was a compliment!” He shot Eddie a playful look. “Patrick Bateman is, like, super hot.”</p><p>Eddie wrinkled his nose. “And a murderer.” He frowned. “Sort of.”</p><p>“Oh, Eddie,” Richie sighed dreamily, “like we don’t both know that you’re capable of much, much worse.”</p><p>Eddie just shook his head as the doors opened and followed once again as Richie exited the elevator, striding down the hallway. He put a bag on the floor and fished out his keys, trying and failing to stop shooting nervous looks Eddie’s way.</p><p>He pushed open the door and, with only a small hesitation in the entryway, let them inside.</p><p>“Uh,” he started before pausing. “This is it.”</p><p>If it had been surreal to be in Eddie’s place, it was somehow even more surreal to have Eddie in his own. He watched as Eddie surveyed the room - the framed posters for Bill’s movies on his walls, the record player and TV and the couch that he treasured more than any other piece of furniture in his entire apartment (his bed included). The stylishly ugly rug he and Bev had bought when they were drunk at a flea market.</p><p>Richie might have panic-cleaned before Eddie got there.</p><p>Eddie didn’t seem put off by how anything looked and Richie dumped his keys onto the little shelving unit he’d found at a second-hand store by the door, toeing his shoes off. He felt slightly better now that Eddie wasn’t immediately leaving because Richie’s apartment violated his delicate sensibilities but he still felt off-kilter, nerves turning his stomach.</p><p>He cleared his throat. “Shoes off or on, I don’t really give a shit.”</p><p>Eddie just smirked at him and removed his own shoes, putting them next to Richie’s. Richie couldn’t help but stare at the two pairs next to each other, neat in a row. Eddie’s just sitting there, like it was where they belonged.</p><p>He realized he was staring at their shoes like a fucking weirdo and shook himself.</p><p>“Uh, kitchen’s this way,” he said, leading them down a hall. He gestured to a door they passed. “That’s the bathroom, if you need it.” They passed another door, which Richie realized he had accidentally left open in his haste to go downstairs. “That’s my, uh, bedroom.” He moved to close the door but Eddie stepped in front of him.</p><p>Richie watched, slightly horrified, as Eddie carefully placed the bags he was holding onto the floor and walked into Richie’s room.</p><p>The surreal feeling was back in full force, watching Eddie take in his room. He studied a few of the drawings on the wall (mostly by Bev - a few of them were drawings of Richie she had done over the years, varying in the degree of how insulting they were and signed in her sprawling signature) and the pictures of Richie with Bev, Bill and Stan. A photo of him with his parents. Richie winced when he saw Eddie notice the dusty guitar in the corner - he barely played, it was just something fun to do sometimes. He really should have dusted. Above it was a framed record. It was a Belinda Carlisle single, which was probably the gayest thing Richie owned.</p><p>He had managed to shut his closet doors but they were obviously bulging at the seams from the clothes contained therein. He hoped Eddie didn’t notice but he saw the little amused turn of his mouth.</p><p>He looked at Richie’s bed. Truth be told, Richie barely knew how to make a bed and generally found it kind of pointless but he had thrown his plaid quilt over it in a show of neatness he wasn’t sure he actually possessed.</p><p>Richie cleared his throat.</p><p>“Yep, this is, uh, where the magic happens,” he said, trying to sound playful. Eddie shot him a look and he tried to smile. “And by magic I mean sleep.”</p><p>Eddie snorted before regarding the room again.</p><p>“I like it,” he said, voice soft.</p><p>Richie blinked at him. “What, really?”</p><p>Eddie gave him a smile - it was a bit teasing but also affectionate. “Well, it <em>is</em> very you.”</p><p>Richie was mortified when he felt his cheeks heat up.</p><p>Clearly taking pity, Eddie just smirked and brushed past him to pick up the bags. “Come on, don’t want this chicken to get gross.”</p><p>Richie cleared his throat. “Right.” He started to lead Eddie down the hall again. “Don’t want salmonella.”</p><p>Richie’s kitchen was a small galley kitchen but Eddie said he had worked with smaller, especially during med school. As promised, Richie actually did have a good number of pots and pans (“Stan, Bev and Bill all gave me the extras they got for their weddings,” he finally admitted, chagrined) and a decent spice cabinet, if he did say so himself.</p><p>Richie was once again thrown - while his friends had come over many times, it was odd watching someone prepare to cook in his space. No one had really done that before, besides Richie himself.</p><p>Not for the first time since Eddie offered, Richie felt a sort of giddy warmth wash over him.</p><p>Someone was offering to cook for him. That someone was Eddie.</p><p>He knew it wasn’t, like, an insanely huge gesture or anything but he also knew that Eddie didn’t offer to do shit unless he either really wanted to or thought someone was worth the effort. It was gratifying in a bone-deep way that made Richie feel kind of shivery inside.</p><p>He tried to stop thinking about it and noticed that Eddie looked a bit apprehensive, wrinkling his nose as he opened one of his many bags.</p><p>“So,” he started, clearly embarrassed, “I might have slightly underestimated what you already had.”</p><p>He began to pull out multiple bottles and lining up all of the basics he had brought. Richie leaned on the counter, eyeing each item as they were revealed. Garlic, oregano, italian seasoning…</p><p>“Salt?” Richie asked, disbelieving. “You thought I wouldn’t have <em>salt</em>, Edward?”</p><p>Eddie bit his lip. “Listen -”</p><p>Richie leaned in, looming over Eddie.</p><p>“I am an adult man, I’ll have you know,” Richie informed him. “I sometimes even use this kitchen.”</p><p>Eddie let out a helpless laugh, eyes light. “I just wanted to be prepared!”</p><p>Richie narrowed his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that was fighting onto his face. “I have never been so insulted by someone’s preparation in my <em>life</em>.” He turned to fling open the doors of his cabinet, pulling out a few bottles and shaking them in Eddie’s face. “I have <em>several salts!</em>” he declared. He gestured meaningfully with one of them. “This one is even pink for some fucking reason!”</p><p>Eddie grabbed at it, examining the label. “Ooh, Himalayan pink salt, nice.”</p><p>“Exactly!” Richie continued, still incensed. “I’m a man who owns nice salts and I’d appreciate it if you acted like it sometimes!”</p><p>Eddie bit his lip, obviously still amused. “Okay, I’m sorry.” He looked at everything he’d brought. “I can just take these with me when I go home.”</p><p>At that, the fight left Richie and he offered Eddie an easy smile. He reached into his fridge to grab two beers and popped the caps off.</p><p>“Nah, just leave them here,” he said. “If it’s all stuff you like using, then you can use it if you feel like cooking here again.” He handed a beer to Eddie before realizing how that sounded and grimacing. “Not that I’m saying you have to do that. You’re welcome to take them home if you’d prefer that.”</p><p>“That’s okay.” Eddie took a sip and gave Richie a small smile. “I’ll leave them here.”</p><p>Richie ducked his head and fidgeted with the bottle in his hands, deeply pleased for some reason.</p><p>“Cool.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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  <p>
    <em> <span class="u">Eddie</span> </em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>Eddie was feeling confident.</p><p>Well, maybe not <em>confident</em> but definitely less like he might burn Richie’s kitchen down. It was much more competently stocked than he had anticipated (because Richie was an adult, apparently) and everything that mattered seemed to work.</p><p>After Eddie had insisted that he didn’t need any help and actually the hovering was becoming annoying, <em>thank you</em>, Richie had taken up residence at the small table he had near the entry to the kitchen, laptop open and typing away. He would occasionally pause to ask Eddie things, like “Hey, do you know if there’s a word for, like, the act of eating something while lying down?”</p><p>“Accubation,” Eddie answered absently, stirring.</p><p>Richie hummed. “Impressive but I’m not sure my audience will understand your million-dollar vocab, Eddie.”</p><p>“It’s a common SAT word,” Eddie grumbled.</p><p>Richie fell silent again and Eddie opened his phone to scroll through the recipes. He smiled as he realized he was basically done - everything just needed to cook on the stove for a while. He wiped his hands, pleased, and took a swig of his beer.</p><p>“This is good for a minute,” he called to Richie. “I’m gonna go use the bathroom if you can keep an eye out.”</p><p>Richie waved a distracted hand. “Go ahead, I got it.”</p><p>Eddie let out an amused breath but went anyways, trying to rest assured that Richie wouldn’t let it all burn. Generally, Eddie didn’t leave anything unattended in the kitchen (fires could start at any moment) but technically Richie was there in case disaster struck.</p><p>He resolutely did not question whether Richie had a fire extinguisher.</p><p>Richie’s bathroom was much of what he expected - not much in the way in skin or hair care, just a brush and some plain towels but he had some very nice candles in various places, which was a surprise. He wondered if they were a gift from Beverly, or even Stan.</p><p>There was also an odd drawing above the toilet. It was a small penguin sitting on a similar toilet to the one in Richie’s bathroom with the caption: “Perry The Pooping Penguin!”</p><p>Eddie snorted at it as he relieved himself and washed his hands, pleased to find that Richie had some fairly nice soap to use. It smelled a bit like jasmine, which was very surprising.</p><p>None of it really accounted for that <em>smell</em> of Richie’s that Eddie was always noticing though. He debated looking in the shower for a moment before hastily backing out of the bathroom, suddenly embarrassed that he had even considered it.</p><p>He was passing back into the kitchen when he laid a hand on Richie’s shoulder, who mysteriously stiffened at his touch. Eddie assumed it was out of surprise.</p><p>“You have a <em>lot</em> of candles,” he was saying when he registered something on the computer screen. “Wait, what -”</p><p>But then Richie was slamming it shut, shoulders hunching. Eddie blinked at the closed computer and let his hand fall.</p><p>“Was that my name?” he asked and Richie made an odd pained face. Eddie looked at him as he resolutely stared at the table. “Richie,” Eddie continued, stomach turning a bit at the obvious tension in the air, “why are you writing something with my name on it?”</p><p>Richie winced. “Okay,” he started, nervously chewing his lip. “Don’t get mad.”</p><p>Eddie furrowed his brow. “Not a great start to anything.”</p><p>Richie waved a hand. “No, don’t worry, it’s not…” He made a frustrated noise before pausing and taking a deep breath. “I just wanna preface this by saying that I’m not trying to, like, get you to do anything you don’t wanna do.”</p><p>Eddie eyed him. “Okay,” he replied carefully, honestly having no idea where this was going.</p><p>Richie’s eyes darted to look at Eddie before looking away again.</p><p>“But, uh, I reached out to Ben,” Richie continued very rapidly, almost tripping over the words, “because I wasn’t sure what the deal was with - with you and your job, and I just wanted to know if he thought there was any way I could be helpful because you obviously hate it a lot and I figured he would know if there was anything that was, like, preventing you from doing something different and he said he wasn’t sure but then he said that he knows that you hate writing cover letters because you don’t like talking about yourself.” He stumbled to a stop, wringing his hands. “So.”</p><p>Eddie found that his mouth had fallen open slightly and closed it, thoughts feeling oddly sluggish as he struggled to process everything. “So… what, exactly?”</p><p>Richie chewed his lip, still avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “Well… he sent me your resume,” he admitted in a breathless rush and Eddie felt his brow furrow, “and, like, I’m always looking for ways to procrastinate when I’m supposed to be working on shit so I’ve been messing around with, uh, with…” He grimaced. “Writing a cover letter template for you during my breaks?”</p><p><em>Oh</em>.</p><p>Oh, wow.</p><p>Okay.</p><p>Eddie blinked at him before letting his gaze fall to the table, digesting this.</p><p>He ruminated for a long moment but couldn’t think of anything except to ask, “Can… can I see it?”</p><p>Richie sagged a little but nodded. “Yeah, okay. It’s not done.”</p><p>He opened his laptop and, with the air of someone about to face a firing squad, turned it Eddie’s way.</p><p>Eddie saw his name at the top again, along with his address and contact information. It had a fairly standard but nicely-written opening with spaces left blank for Eddie to input anything about where he was applying, like “name one thing you like about the hospital” and “insert nerd shit here about why you love anasasesthigooglygoo” as well as a surprisingly thoughtful overview of Eddie’s past work.</p><p>Eddie stared down at it, dumbstruck.</p><p>“Again, it’s not done,” Richie continued to explain in the silence Eddie wasn’t filling. “But, like, I am technically a writer so I figured I could try.”</p><p>Eddie swallowed.</p><p>“This is really thoughtful,” he finally said, throat feeling tight.</p><p>Richie looked at him, eyes wide. “Yeah?”</p><p>Eddie nodded but then noticed something else on the screen. It was titled “EDDIE RESUME EDITS”.</p><p>“What’s this?” he asked, clicking on it.</p><p>Richie made a move to stop him. “Hey, wait, that one isn’t -” but Eddie was already reading it.</p><p>He smirked at what he saw.</p><p>“This breakdown of my responsibilities at the surgical center is pretty good, if not a bit editorialized,” he observed, trying not to laugh when he got to the bullet point: <em>Tolerates asshole coworkers with a professional amount of disdain.</em> He raised his eyebrows. “Under personal skills, you added ‘has ass that won’t quit.’”</p><p>Richie’s face was very red. “That was… I was gonna give you that as a joke.”</p><p>Eddie snorted. “Thanks. Pretty sure that doesn’t count as a skill though.”</p><p>Richie shrugged, still looking wary. “I dunno, I think it’s impressive.”</p><p>Eddie made a face. “What, my ass?”</p><p>Richie turned even redder. “I mean. Yes.”</p><p>Eddie felt a flutter in his stomach and he let out a disbelieving laugh. “Okay.”</p><p>“You jog!” Richie insisted, clearly feeling the need to defend himself. “It’s done a lot for you!”</p><p>Eddie pressed a hand to his mouth, feeling pleased yet a little silly at the same time. “Thank you but please shut the fuck up about my ass.”</p><p>“Sorry, it’s a passionate topic for me,” Richie said, smiling and looking slightly more at ease now that he seemed reassured that Eddie wasn’t angry.</p><p>And he wasn’t, he was more just confused. And touched. And, again, <em>confused</em>. He chewed his lip, thinking of what to even say.</p><p>“What possessed you to do this?” he asked, his voice a bit more vulnerable than he intended.</p><p>Richie shrugged, bouncing his knee.</p><p>“I just.” He paused, brow furrowing. “Again, I don’t want you to feel like this means you need to do anything different or like I’m, I don’t know, judging you for staying at your job, but you don’t seem happy there so I just, like…” He trailed off before admitting, “I just don’t want you to feel stuck, Eddie.”</p><p>A wave of overwhelmed <em>something</em> washed over Eddie and he felt compelled to shut his eyes.</p><p>It suddenly felt like too much. It felt like Eddie maybe, possibly, couldn’t stand it. Not the gesture, not how much it meant to him. Not how much Richie clearly cared. It was like being asked to stand at the very edge of a huge cliff and only having someone else holding your hand for safety.</p><p>Eddie wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt more terrified in his life.</p><p>But…</p><p>It was also fucking exhilerating, wasn’t it?</p><p>Eddie took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. “And you thought I’d be mad?”</p><p>Richie winced before trying to smile. “I mean, it is a <em>little</em> invasive.”</p><p>Eddie snorted, the attempt at a joke helping him feel a little more stable. “I should really tell Ben to block your number.”</p><p>Richie held his hands up in mock prayer. “No, come on, don’t, please.” He held up a finger. “Plus, I help him out with Bev, too. You can’t break up our bromance, dude.”</p><p>Eddie gave him a look. “And it didn’t occur to you that you could have, I don’t know, asked <em>me</em> for the information?”</p><p>Richie scoffed. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Also, I was worried I would chicken out and not give it to you.”</p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes. “Because I’m that scary?”</p><p>Richie pursed his lips. “Okay, excuse me for being careful about giving you a gift,” he snorted. “Last time I tried, you retaliated by giving me a giant fucking dildo.”</p><p>Eddie wrinkled his nose. “Well, I was just pranking you back,” he answered before pausing, something dawning on him. “Wait…” He furrowed his brow. “Were the flowers like a legitimate gift?”</p><p>Richie groaned and put his head in his hands. “Jesus Christ - <em>yes!</em>” he exclaimed. “I spent like thirty minutes with the florist putting together the most over-the-top courtship flowers they had!”</p><p>Eddie processed this, neck feeling hot, a kernel of something pleased and slightly smitten feeling warm in his stomach. “I thought you just sent the most over-the-top annoyance flowers they had.”</p><p>Richie gave him a fond look. “For a doctor, you’re really fucking dense.” Eddie scowled at him, ignoring the fact that he probably had a point. “Thank God I actually said something to you or else I’d just be sending more and more obvious signals for the rest of time and none of my romantic gestures would ever be acknowledged.”</p><p>Eddie blushed, looking down.</p><p>“Sorry about the dildo then,” he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Seems kind of shitty now, in retrospect.”</p><p>Richie let out a bright laugh. “Are you kidding me?” he asked and Eddie looked up, questioning. “I almost had a fucking heart attack when I saw that thing. I was like ‘oh my god, this is the most hilarious present I’ve ever gotten,’ and then I went ‘oh no, is he funnier than me?’”</p><p>Eddie gave him a look, snorting. “Oh, I’m sure you were worried about that.”</p><p>Richie made a dismissive noise, waving a hand. “Of course I was, man.” He said it so flippantly, like Eddie surely must hear that kind of thing all the time. Like such a thing was common knowledge. “You’re funnier than half the comics I know.” He gave a rueful shake of his head. “It’s so annoying too, because you don’t even try.”</p><p>Eddie felt warmth spread in his chest but also a bit embarrassed by the misplaced praise.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” he asked, incredulous. “I’m not funny. People always complain about me having no sense of humor.”</p><p>Richie scoffed. “I mean, yeah, you never laugh at shit but that doesn’t mean you’re not funny.” He pointed at Eddie. “<em>You</em> are fucking funny, Eddie Kaspbrak.”</p><p>He smiled at what Eddie was sure was a dumbfounded expression on his face.</p><p>There was that odd thrown feeling, like he was being <em>seen</em>, like Richie was actually bothering to look at him.</p><p>All of him.</p><p>And he <em>liked</em> whatever it was he was seeing.</p><p>Eddie was at the cliff’s edge again but he couldn’t look away from Richie and he watched as Richie’s smile faded a little. Eddie realized with a jolt that he was staring at Richie’s mouth and dartied his gaze up to look him in the eye.</p><p>There was that something in the air again, a strange charge - before Eddie could even process what he was doing he was leaning down right as Richie reached up to meet him in the middle and they were kissing.</p><p>They kissed as the chair Richie had been sitting on was sent skittering away as he stood to his full height, crowding against Eddie. They kept kissing as he backed Eddie up until he felt his back hit a ledge and continued kissing even when, in a shocking display of strength, Richie hauled him up onto the kitchen counter.</p><p>It was only then that Richie pulled away, panting and staring at him with wide eyes. Eddie could only stare back, stunned.</p><p>“Oh shit,” Richie breathed, “I didn’t know I could do that.” He ran a hand along Eddie’s jaw and Eddie felt like electricity followed in its wake. “Have I been secretly strong this entire time or are you just tiny?”</p><p>Eddie grabbed the hand that was touching his face and squeezed.</p><p>“Stop calling me tiny,” he warned, though his voice sounded a little winded and not at all as menacing as he had intended. “And please turn off the burners.”</p><p>Richie gave a hasty nod and turned to do so before turning back around and carding his hands through Eddie’s hair.</p><p>“Sorry, I don’t mean it in a shitty way, it’s a term of endearment,” Richie breathed, nosing along Eddie’s jaw. Eddie found that his legs had wrapped around Richie’s waist without him even thinking about it and he squeezed, his hands grasping the back of Richie’s shirt. “You’re just fucking cute.” He then latched onto Eddie’s pulse point and sucked.</p><p>Eddie felt like every synapse in his brain could only focus on that one spot and he swallowed convulsively, thumping Richie on the back.</p><p>“I’m not cute,” he protested, voice weak to his own ears. He wondered if Richie could feel his heart rate against his tongue and gripped harder onto Richie’s shirt. “I’m a fucking grown man.”</p><p>Richie stopped his attention on Eddie’s neck and leaned back to regard Eddie seriously. It was slightly undercut by the fact that his glasses were slightly askew. Eddie straightened them for him.</p><p>“Sorry dude,” Richie said gravely. “I say this as someone who is deeply terrified of you: you are the cutest person I have ever met in my entire fucking life.” He brushed a knuckle along Eddie’s cheekbone and Eddie found himself leaning into it. Richie’s other hand trailed along the top of Eddie’s pants, just under his shirt and Eddie fought a shiver. “And I’ve met Betty White.”</p><p>Eddie rolled his eyes but he could feel his face heating up. “Great, wonderful. Compare me to more old ladies.”</p><p>Richie cupped his face with one hand as the other pushed up Eddie’s shirt, soft and demanding all at once.</p><p>“You’re as cute as Judi Dench and as hot as Helen Mirren.”</p><p>Eddie huffed out a despairing noise and let his head tilt back into a cupboard door. “And you’re as funny as Jerry fucking Lewis.”</p><p>Richie barked out a laugh. “Is that, like, the most recent shitty comedian you can think of?”</p><p>Eddie frowned and didn’t answer.</p><p>“Oh my God,” Richie groaned, kissing Eddie’s throat again, hand absently fondling his side, fingers tracing Eddie’s ribs. It almost tickled but was also so nice that Eddie felt his chest shudder. “I love that you know nothing about comedy, it’s like the sexiest thing about you.”</p><p>Eddie swallowed, mouth feeling dry. He almost protested that clearly he knew <em>something</em> about comedy since he’d known who Richie was but then Richie shifted again and the words died on Eddie’s lips as he felt the length of Richie’s cock, growing hard, absently pressed against his thigh. Eddie took in a shallow gulp of air, his legs tightening again and Richie made a guttural noise.</p><p>“Yeah,” Eddie finally answered as he tried to regain some form of higher brain function, panting just a bit, “that’s probably because that’s the only way I could be tricked into thinking you’re funny.”</p><p>Richie let out a breathless laugh.</p><p>“No, it’s super hot when you don’t laugh at the dumb shit I say,” he admitted before making a considering noise. He moved impossibly closer, nosing into Eddie’s hair and sliding a hand up his sternum. “But I also love it when you laugh.” He angled his head so his lips were against Eddie’s ear as he stated, voice low and gravely, “I guess I just like you,” and pinched Eddi’s nipple.</p><p>That combination startled a moan out of Eddie.</p><p>It was so strange… he was on a kitchen counter (something he generally did not approve of - a kitchen counter was for food prep and sitting on one was gross), having his space invaded (not something he enjoyed in most circumstances), getting felt up (also not in his wheelhouse - usually he found anyone touching him annoying at best), and having an absolutely asinine conversation (although when were their conversations <em>not</em> stupid) but he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to keep doing this, maybe forever. He wanted Richie to never stop touching him.</p><p>Richie pulled back a bit to reach for Eddie fly but stopped short to look up at him and quirk an eyebrow.</p><p>“Seriously no pressure,” Richie stated, still oddly baritone and slightly winded, “but I would like to touch you if that’s okay.”</p><p>Eddie squeezed his eyes shut because <em>okay, wow</em> but nodded. “Yep, yeah, that would be fine.”</p><p>“I won’t be mad if you wanna stop at any time,” Richie continued.</p><p>Eddie heard himself make an impatient noise. “Yes, yes, understood.”</p><p>“Eddie,” Richie prompted and Eddie sighed and opened his eyes. Richie was smiling at him. His pupils were shot wide and there was a glint in his eye that made Eddie’s pulse race. “Are you ready?”</p><p>Eddie glared at him, feeling flushed from head to toe. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”</p><p>“That’s not a yes,” Richie chided but he still proceeded to pop open the button of Eddie’s pants and pull down the zipper. “Consent is sexy, you know.”</p><p>Feeling practically out of his mind, Eddie found himself grasping Richie around the back of the neck and pulling him into a fierce kiss. He tasted like beer and toothpaste and something else, something he couldn’t categorize as his mind tripped along, trying to memorize everything he was feeling. He pulled back and fixed Richie with an irritated look, taking in the other man’s dazed expression.</p><p>“I fucking consent, you unmitigated jackass,” Eddie growled at him.</p><p>Richie gave him a smile, looking half-drunk.</p><p>“Dope,” he sighed and pulled Eddie out his boxer briefs.</p><p>Eddie squirmed at the sight of it, blinking at himself in Richie’s hand. It dawned on him, in a sudden dizzying realization, that Myra never wanted to do anything with the lights on. He’d never seen anyone touch him before and he had to take a deep breath and press his hands into Richie’s hair, unable to look away.</p><p>Richie made a deep appreciative noise, slowly running his hand up and down Eddie’s shaft. He felt his legs tighten around Richie’s waist even more and his fingers dug deeper into his hair, an involuntary noise falling from his lips as he felt Richie’s dick twitch against his thigh.</p><p>Richie let out a guttural groan and let his head fall to Eddie’s clavicle, staring down at what he was doing with rapt attention. That <em>too much</em> feeling came over Eddie again and he had to look up at the ceiling, hands absently carding through Richie’s hair over and over, Richie’s warm breath on his chest.</p><p>“Shit,” Richie muttered, “I’ve made a mistake - this is literally the only thing I’m ever gonna want to do anymore.”</p><p>That startled a laugh out of Eddie which turned into a bitten-off moan as Richie hastily spit into his palm and touched him again, starting to run his hand up and down more quickly.</p><p>“I’m serious,” Richie continued, almost babbling, “I’m gonna have to quit my stand-up career and just do this professionally otherwise all of my sets are gonna be about your dick.”</p><p>Eddie knew, from an objective standpoint, that nothing Richie was saying was sexy. It was all deeply, hilariously stupid, but something about Richie’s voice and the sentiment sparked a deep and primal want inside of Eddie and he felt his breath speeding up.</p><p>“Maybe that would be an improvement,” Eddie answered nonsensically, flexing his fingers in Richie’s hair as he thumbed the head of Eddie’s dick. “Maybe you’d finally get good reviews.”</p><p>Richie chuckled but it turned into a grunt as Eddie tugged a little harder at his hair, the hand not jerking Eddie’s off reaching around to squeeze his ass.</p><p>“Only way that would happen would be for me to do this on stage.”</p><p>Eddie let out a groan, arousal mixing with disgust.</p><p>“Fuck off,” he muttered.</p><p>Richie let out an amused exhale and restlessly moved the hand groping Eddie’s ass up to his scalp, fingernails scratching in a gentle pleasant way that made tingles run up Eddie’s spine.</p><p>“So you wouldn’t want everyone to watch me getting you off?” Richie laughed, throaty and aroused.</p><p>Eddie yanked at Richie’s hair in reproach and was shocked when this made Richie make a deep needy noise and squeeze Eddie’s dick. Eddie shuddered, filing away the information.</p><p>Richie liked hair pulling.</p><p>Shit. Okay.</p><p>“Fuck no,” Eddie insisted, but he felt himself get even harder at the thought.</p><p>It would be mortifying, for anyone to see this. Eddie would probably shrivel up and die. But something about other people watching, seeing what Richie could do to him…</p><p>He shivered all over.</p><p>Richie moved his head to nose at Eddie’s throat, swiping his tongue along where Eddie was sure his pulse was racing.</p><p>“Good,” Richie stated, oddly possessive, hand speeding up. Eddie felt like there was heat building at the base of his stomach and somewhere in his brainstem. “I want this all to myself anyway.”</p><p>Eddie didn’t know what to say.</p><p>Eddie was drowning.</p><p>Eddie was in some liminal space, mind caught in some kind of slipstream and he didn’t even know what they were talking about anymore. He tried to form a response but words were like sand falling through his fingers and all he could do was make a noise that almost sounded like he was in pain, pulling Richie closer by his hair.</p><p>“Fuck,” he finally managed, gasping. “Richie, I’m -”</p><p>“That’s great, that’s good,” Richie assured him, somehow moving faster, lips warm and wet at Eddie’s throat. “Come for me, I want you to.”</p><p>Eddie let out a choked-off sound, almost like a sob and he gripped Richie’s hair, probably pulling too hard but it was like his whole body was convulsing, sight whiting out at the corners and he was coming, orgasm so sudden that it felt like it was being punched out of him.</p><p>As he felt his senses come back, he pet his hands along Richie’s scalp, soothing but also shaking a little.</p><p>“Oh my God,” he muttered, voice weak to his own ears. “Holy shit.”</p><p>He felt Richie fumbling with his own pants and heard the zipper go down. He blinked, dazed, and watched Richie grasp himself.</p><p>Eddie knew he probably looked like a deer in the headlights because his suspicions had now been officially confirmed.</p><p>Richie was.... pretty big.</p><p>Like somewhat intimidatingly big.</p><p>Flushed and curved slightly and Eddie was discomfited to find his mouth watering a little. His own reaction struck him as somewhat appalling (who reacts that way to seeing a dick, gross) but he couldn’t help but stare.</p><p>Richie gave him a slightly desperate look, squeezing the base of his dick.</p><p>“Do you mind if I…?” he asked, a frantic edge to his voice.</p><p>Eddie nodded hastily. “Yeah, sure.”</p><p>Richie let out a sigh of relief and pulled Eddie into a sloppy kiss, hand moving rapidly over his dick.</p><p>“Fuck, thank you,” Richie mumbled into his mouth.</p><p>That startled a laugh out of Eddie and his brain finally caught up to what was happening and he realized, very belatedly, that he probably should be helping in some capacity. He wasn’t sure how to proceed, still feeling slow and stupid and almost drugged, but he reached out a tentative hand.</p><p>Not knowing where to touch, he decided to put his hand over the one Richie was using to stroke himself. No sooner did he make contact than Richie seized up, a startled groan ripping out of him as he gripped the back of Eddie’s hair and Eddie realized he was coming.</p><p>They sat still like that for a moment, clutching at each other, and Eddie felt it as Richie’s joints unlocked one by one until he was sagging into Eddie against the counter.</p><p>“Holy shit,” Richie breathed. “What the fuck.”</p><p>A giggle bubbled out of Eddie and he reached for a dish towel, gingerly wiping both of them and wincing as he put himself back into his boxer briefs. In a distant, detached way, he registered that this was all kind of gross and very unsanitary but the happy haze that had fallen over his brain made it impossible for him to really take issue with any of it.</p><p>“You okay?” he asked, voice soft.</p><p>Richie made another disbelieving noise. “Yeah, just,” he looked down at himself, brow furrowed and glasses hanging off of one ear. Eddie moved to put the arm of his glasses back in place and Richie grabbed his hand, his own trembling a bit, placing an absent kiss to Eddie’s palm. “I just usually last longer than this.”</p><p>Eddie, warmed by the little show of affection, gave him a look. “You know I don’t give a shit, right?”</p><p>Richie ran a shaking hand over the back of his neck. “No, I know, it’s just never…” He looked lost. “It’s never been like this before.”</p><p>Eddie snorted, fighting the pleased preening feeling filling his stomach. “Same, obviously.” But then he paused and chewed his lip, giving Richie an assessing look. “But like… for real, though?”</p><p>Richie looked genuinely baffled, tucking himself back into his pants. “Yeah.” He seemed deep in thought. “Maybe it’s the element of surprise?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Eddie allowed before he felt an odd sort of want thrumming in his stomach as an idea occurred to him. “We could, uh, plan for the next time then.” He tried to shrug casually. “I’ve heard people do that.”</p><p>Richie seemed to ruminate on that for a moment before he groaned and dropped his head to Eddie’s shoulder.</p><p>“Nope, no, I can already tell that won’t help.” He hummed. “I don’t know, maybe I’ve just never been with someone I actually <em>liked</em> before.” There was a pause as Eddie’s heart fluttered before Richie sat back up and wrinkled his nose, grimacing. Eddie barely noticed since he felt like someone had set off a firework in his chest. “Sorry, that came out more depressing than I intended.”</p><p>“No,” Eddie said quickly, voice quiet. He tangled their fingers together, pulse tripping when Richie sent him a soft smile. “That’s not depressing at all.”</p><p>Richie gazed at him for another moment before clearing his throat and turning to wash his hands. He wiped them dry on his jeans, grinning when the action made Eddie wrinkle his nose, and helped Eddie down from off the counter. His hands lingered at Eddie’s waist and he leaned in to brush a kiss against Eddie’s cheek, making him swallow involuntarily.</p><p>“Thank you for cooking for me,” Richie murmured.</p><p>Eddie let out a small laugh. “You don’t even know if it’s good yet,” he huffed, putting his hands on Richie’s shoulders.</p><p>Richie leaned back and hummed. “True.” He grinned. “I guess if it’s bad I’m dumping you.”</p><p>Eddie watched as Richie seemed to realize something, maybe the implication of what he’d just said. The implication that they were dating.</p><p>Richie looked scared for a moment before he met Eddie’s eyes, like he was worried Eddie was going to dispute it. Like he’d given Eddie an opportunity to hurt him and it was terrifying.</p><p>Eddie knew, in his bones, that he never do that. Not intentionally.</p><p>He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond though, feeling out of his depth.</p><p>There was a long pause.</p><p>Almost without thinking, Eddie finally said, “You’ll be lucky if I don’t poison you on purpose.”</p><p>There was a beat and he was worried for a moment that it was the wrong thing to say but then Richie just threw back his head and cackled.</p><p>“Yeah,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Very lucky.”</p><p>Eddie could only grin back, warm to his toes.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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    <em> <span class="u">Richie</span> </em>
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</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>Richie was starting to consider the fact that he may have created a monster.</p><p>“You do know that we’re at a nice restaurant, right?” he whispered, just this side of hysterical. “And that all our friends are out there, waiting for us?”</p><p>Eddie started to retract his hand from where he had shoved it down the front of Richie’s pants.</p><p>“Right, sorry.”</p><p>Richie grabbed his wrist. “Hey I didn’t say I wanted you to stop, I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the situation.”</p><p>Eddie gave him a look though Richie could see that he was a bit nervous.</p><p>“No, Richie,” Eddie shot back, a little mean. “I wasn’t aware that we’re in a restroom and my hand is in your pants.” He looked down at said hand. “Oh no,” he mocked, putting on a stupid voice, “how did that get there?”</p><p>This wasn’t how Richie was expecting this dinner to go. In fact, he wasn’t really expecting anything besides a nice time out when he’d suggested it.</p><p>Eddie was finally changing jobs - he was going to work at a regular hospital, assisting with regular, life-saving surgeries and Richie couldn’t have been happier for him. Eddie had been a nervous wreck for weeks about it, mainly concerning the change in income but luckily Stan had a financial planner who was also Richie’s financial planner and he was basically the only reason Richie had been able to stay a comic at all and wasn’t currently waiting tables while sharing an apartment with a group of 20-something improv students. With the planner’s help, Eddie had been able to get himself situated and less terrified and able to do something he said was “not as depressing.”</p><p>Richie didn’t personally think any surgery seemed especially uplifting but he <em>could</em> understand not wanting to work with a bunch of dicks doing something you hate.</p><p>So maybe he’d suggested dinner to celebrate and maybe he’d secretly invited Eddie’s friends and his friends as well (it only seemed right - Mike and Ben needed to be there and then Beverly was dating Ben and Stan had helped with the whole job situation so he had to invite Patty, too, and Richie was pretty sure Bill would have cried if he had been left out) to Eddie’s favorite restaurant for the evening. It seemed like a fun surprise.</p><p>He of course assumed that Eddie might be pissed off about it being a surprise at all but that was hardly ever a deterrent for Richie.</p><p>To his own surprise, Eddie seemed downright enchanted by the whole thing. In fact, Eddie had been making moon-eyes at Richie all night, which was distracting. He also held Richie’s hand (in front of <em>everyone</em>), which was extremely cool. Richie kept grinning at nothing but was still shocked as hell when he was washing his hands in the bathroom and, in the reflection of the mirror, saw Eddie duck inside.</p><p>“Hey, what’s…”</p><p>But then Eddie was locking the door and shoving Richie against it, tongue in Richie’s mouth and hand fumbling for his belt.</p><p>Which was how they were where they were now.</p><p>“No one saw you?” Richie felt compelled to ask as Eddie unzipped Richie’s pants and slipped him out of his boxers, eyes going wide. His eyes always seemed to go a little wide when he saw Richie like this which was, like, <em>insanely</em> gratifying, but also made Richie feel like he was literally going to combust.</p><p>“No,” Eddie grunted, touching him lightly and curling his hand into a loose fist.</p><p>Okay.</p><p>Okay, yeah.</p><p>Richie reached a hand up into Eddie’s hair, the other grasping blindly for his hip.</p><p>“I said I needed to take a call outside and then snuck back here,” Eddie continued, distracted. “You can’t really see the front door from our table.”</p><p>“Oh,” Richie sighed, letting out a small pained noise when Eddie let him go for a second to spit into his hand. He made a slightly disgusted face and it was so cute and hot that Richie had to screw his eyes shut. “Good thinking.”</p><p>There was a pause and he peaked an eye open, only to find Eddie staring at him, maybe a little apprehensive.</p><p>“Hey, if you’re not…” Richie started.</p><p>They hadn’t really approached things this way before and Richie had almost always taken the lead (not that Richie was complaining, he was literally over the moon every single fucking time like the world’s biggest heartsick loser). Overt and explicit dick-touching hadn’t been the star of the show all that often, and when it happened, it was usually handled almost exclusively by Richie. Again, not that he was complaining.</p><p>Eddie got a determined jut to his chin.</p><p>“I want to,” he stated before grabbing at Richie again. The slide of his hand was a lot more firm now, and he started twisting his wrist more confidently.</p><p>Richie wondered, a little wildly, if this was how Eddie touched himself.</p><p>Richie had wanted to ask if he could watch, before. Just let Eddie do his thing and sit there, bearing witness. Like some voyeuristic creep.</p><p>Is this how Eddie liked to do it?</p><p>Richie felt his pulse quicken.</p><p>Nope, no, not the time for that rabbit hole.</p><p>Dangerous territory.</p><p>He let his head thunk against the door.</p><p>“Hey, it’s your rodeo, cowboy,” he babbled nonsensically.</p><p>Eddie let out a slightly disarmed chuckle. “So this is okay for you?”</p><p>“Fuck yeah,” Richie breathed. “I just…” He grabbed Eddie’s leg and tried to hitch it up to wrap around him, craving closeness, but the stupid door behind Richie was in the way. “Ugh,” he muttered in frustration. “Hold on.”</p><p>He grabbed Eddie’s shoulders, spinning them around so Eddie was the one against the door, hitching his leg up so it was around Richie’s waist. He sighed, melting into it.</p><p>“Better.”</p><p>Eddie let out a shocked laugh as Richie bowed over him. He didn’t let up the pace of his hand and Richie heard himself make a slightly embarrassing mewling noise.</p><p>“Good,” Eddie panted into his ear.</p><p>Richie braced one hand on the door behind them, the other going to fumble for Eddie’s ass. He kneaded his fingers into the curve of it, feeling his own dick pulse in Eddie’s hand.</p><p>“I am definitely not going to last long,” he stammered.</p><p>Eddie snorted into his neck, tightening his hand minutely. Richie gasped.</p><p>“Oh no, and here I thought I was only into you for your legendary stamina.”</p><p>Richie shuddered.</p><p>“Careful, Eddie,” he tried to joke, “I would really warn you against being mean to me right now.”</p><p>Eddie suddenly grabbed a handful of Richie’s hair at the base of his neck and pulled his head back so Richie was forced to look him in the eyes.</p><p>“I thought you liked that I’m mean?”</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Richie gasped, probably a little too loud. Eddie released his hair to clasp his hand over Richie’s mouth.</p><p>Holy shit, where did that come from?</p><p>Eddie’s dick demon was getting <em>audacious</em>.</p><p>“Shh,” Eddie shushed, a little harshly.</p><p>Richie felt weak in the knees.</p><p>Eddie didn’t move his hand from his mouth, his other hand moving even faster between them. Richie hauled him close by his stupid sexy jogger’s ass. He let out another moan, muffled by Eddie’s palm. He was suddenly glad his hand was there because Richie found himself fighting to not say something truly embarrassing.</p><p><em>It’s way too soon for to say anything like that,</em> he thought, hysterical. <em>You’re going to scare him away.</em></p><p>
  <em>Please don’t say anything.</em>
</p><p>He prayed Eddie wouldn’t move his hand.</p><p>He groaned again.</p><p>“You’re gonna get us in trouble with your fucking loud mouth,” Eddie whispered into his ear, just a little cruel but also there was something deeply affectionate and slightly turned on in his voice, and he <em>squeezed</em>, and that’s all it took to tip Richie over the edge.</p><p>“Mmph,” he tried to warn against the palm of Eddie’s hand before squeezing his eyes shut, shuddering all over.</p><p>Eddie laughed a little, sounding slightly surprised (which wasn’t entirely fair as Richie <em>had</em> warned him that this was gonna be fast) - he let Richie tremble through the aftershocks before gingerly moving them around so Richie could sag against the door. He pet Richie’s hair from his face, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before turning around to wash his hands.</p><p>“Fuck me,” Richie muttered to himself.</p><p>He was still blinking stars out his eyes when he heard Eddie let out a small curse.</p><p>“Just give me a sec, Eds, then I got you,” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut.</p><p>“Shit. Fuck! No, it’s not that,” Eddie snapped at him, but his voice was more panicked than angry. Richie tried to focus over at where he was looking at himself in the mirror. He turned, giving Richie a desperate look. “You fucking <em>jizzed</em> on me,” he whispered, agast. “You got jizz <em>on my shirt.</em>”</p><p>Oh wow. He had - Richie could see it.</p><p>A bubble of laughter rose out of him before he slapped a hand over his mouth. He made a yikes face.</p><p>“Oh, shit.”</p><p>Eddie pressed his hands to his mouth, horrified.</p><p>“Oh my god, everyone’s gonna know I give bathroom handjobs,” he moaned quietly, looking frantic. “Your friends are gonna think I’m a bathroom pervert!” He looked even more horrified. “<em>My</em> friends are gonna think I’m a bathroom pervert!”</p><p>Richie flapped at hand at him and straightened up. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just take off your button-up.”</p><p>Eddie wrinkled his nose. “And, what, just come out in my undershirt?! That’s not better!” He started wringing his hands. “Also I’m pretty sure it’s soaked through. Oh my god.”</p><p>Richie shook his head, trying not to laugh while simultaneously formulating a plan. Unfortunately, he was still feeling slow.</p><p>“Give me one second, the blood’s still returning to my brain,” he told Eddie, pinching the bridge of his nose.</p><p>He let out a long breath and put his hands on Eddie’s shoulders.</p><p>“Okay, first off,” Richie started, “that was the coolest thing that’s happened to me in a long time so thank you.” Eddie huffed, looking embarrassed but pleased. “Second off,” Richie continued sincerely, “I’m really sorry about coming on you.” Eddie’s lips pressed into an annoyed line. “Third off: I think I have a plan.”</p><p>Eddie did not look like he remotely trusted him. “What plan?”</p><p>But Richie gave him a quick kiss on his forehead and was already half-out the door.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be right back.”</p><p>“Richie-” Eddie started but Richie was already bolting towards the dining area again.</p><p>“Hey, guys,” he said, skidding to a stop at the table. Everyone looked up at him, slightly stunned by Richie’s sudden appearance. “Crazy thing but Eddie just texted me and a bird shat on his shirt while he was outside taking a call! Crazy, right? Anyway, I’m just gonna grab his jacket and take it out to him so he won’t be embarrassed, just please no one mention anything - again, he’s very embarrassed. Anyway be right back!”</p><p>He had already grabbed the jacket and dashed back towards the entrance before anyone could even open their mouths to respond.</p><p>He waited a moment and then snuck back to the bathroom, knocking “shave and a haircut” on the door. Eddie cracked it open and sighed in relief when he spotted his jacket.</p><p>“What did you say to them?” he asked, putting it on and zipping it up.</p><p>“I said something about a bird shitting on you.” At Eddie’s face, Richie laughed. “It’s cool, I think they bought it.”</p><p>Eddie gave him an uneasy look but they both snuck back to the entrance before coming back in together.</p><p>Richie pulled out Eddie’s chair and he sat, shaking his head at everyone and awkwardly smiling.</p><p>“Fucking birds, right?” Eddie chuckled, clearly forced.</p><p>Everyone tittered as Richie sat down, too.</p><p>They were seated for a moment and Richie thought maybe they were in the clear until Beverly cleared her throat and said, “Hey, Richie?”</p><p>Uh oh.</p><p>“Hmm?” he hummed, taking a big gulp of water.</p><p>She tapped her fingers and looked like she was biting the inside of her cheek.</p><p>“How exactly did Eddie text you if you left your phone here when you went to the bathroom?”</p><p>Richie’s eyes shot to where his phone was sitting on the table.</p><p>He swallowed and then opened his mouth.</p><p>Closed it.</p><p>Opened it again.</p><p>“Uhhhhhhh,” he tried, voice high. He could feel Eddie glaring daggers at him.</p><p>“And w-why did you look so sweaty coming out of the bathroom?” Bill asked.</p><p>Richie was going to die. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhh…”</p><p>“Also,” Mike added, “did you guys know that there were mirrors over there?” He gestured to the back wall that was full of mirrors that neither Eddie or Richie had seen from their seats. They both turned to look and Richie saw the blood drain from Eddie’s face out of the corner of his eye. “So we can see when, say, someone pretends to go outside and instead goes to the bathroom?”</p><p>Mike shook his head but gave Eddie a disbelieving and almost proud smile. Ben and Patty were clearly trying not to laugh. Stan looked like maybe he was having some kind of transcendental experience.</p><p>Eddie shrank down in his seat.</p><p>“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Richie tried again, voice still far too high.</p><p>Eddie heaved a deep sigh.</p><p>“Listen,” he said, voice curt and small, gaze fixed on the table, “as a courtesy to me, can we all just pretend that none of that happened so I can potentially bear to look literally any of you in the eyes ever again?” He glanced up, expression pleading. “Please?”</p><p>There was a beat.</p><p>Stan finally cleared his throat and said, “So, fucking <em>birds</em>, right?”</p><p>Everyone made noises of agreement interspersed with laughter and Eddie grabbed Richie’s hand under the table. He caught Eddie shooting Stan a grateful look, getting an exasperated grin in response.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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    <em> <span class="u">Eddie</span> </em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was early summer and it was unbearably hot out.</p><p>The AC at Richie’s was working overtime and Eddie had been having a particularly challenging work week and Richie had had one too many sets - they had been sniping at each other all day which also happened to be their first full day off at the same time together in a while.</p><p>Eddie felt restless in his bones, and he had practically snarled when Richie called him fucking “persnickety” of all things. This had somehow fallen into an actual fight - Eddie could barely remember what it was about but it had started with dish towels, of all fucking things. It had fizzled out but now Eddie was skulking around the apartment, annoyed that he was annoyed and even more annoyed that Richie had the gall to be annoyed with him for being annoyed, while Richie watched him from the couch. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.</p><p>“What?” he finally snapped.</p><p>Richie pursed his lips at him. “Will you sit down for a second? You’re pacing like a trapped cat.”</p><p>Eddie flopped onto the couch. “Fine. Here. I’m sitting.” He gestured wide. “Happy now?”</p><p>Richie just gave him an irritated look.</p><p>“Delighted,” he said, drole. “Listen, I’m going to say something to you.” He made a considering face. “Well, a series of things.” He regarded Eddie seriously. “They may shock you.”</p><p>Eddie scoffed. “Sure, whatever.”</p><p>Richie raised an eyebrow. “I’m not kidding.”</p><p>Eddie threw up his hands. “Fine, shock away!”</p><p>Richie fully turned his body to eye Eddie. He started counting off on his fingers.</p><p>“Number one: you’re fucking annoying sometimes.”</p><p>Eddie narrowed his eyes.</p><p>“You’re fucking annoying always,” he shot back but Richie held up a quieting hand.</p><p>“Just, let me finish.” He started counting on his fingers again. “Number one: you’re annoying which leads into number two which is that you can also be a real prissy bitch but I still like you.” He shook his head, expression almost bemused. “In face, I think I might even <em>like</em> that you’re a prissy bitch sometimes.”</p><p>Eddie scowled at him. “Wanting dish towels to not fall on the floor constantly because they’re what we use to dry the dishes we fucking eat off of is not being a prissy bitch.”</p><p>Richie let out an exasperated laugh. “I know, okay? I know. You’re fucking right about that one. I will make sure shit stops falling on the floor!” He pressed his hands together. “Now will you please shut up?”</p><p>Eddie huffed and crossed his arms. Richie took a deep breath and leveled a serious look at him.</p><p>“Number three…” He swallowed, knee beginning to bounce. He seemed to visibly try to still himself, gaze falling to the couch cushion between them. Then, in a voice so soft that Eddie almost didn’t catch it, he confessed: ”I’m in love with you.”</p><p>Eddie felt his eyes go wide. Richie swallowed again and looked back up, meeting Eddie’s eyes for a fleeting moment before looking past his shoulder.</p><p>“And number four,” Richie continued with a forced air of casualness, “I would like it if you’d let me suck your dick.”</p><p>Eddie stared at him.</p><p>“You…” he trailed off, heart tripping. His stomach felt strange and fluttery and he felt like there was a certain weightlessness to his limbs. He was hot all over and it was like he wanted to laugh and barf and scream all at once. “Okay, I thought you were being facetious about the shock thing.”</p><p>“So can I?” Richie asked quickly, leaning forward.</p><p>Eddie barked out a laugh. “I think we should talk about the other thing.”</p><p>“We can talk about how annoying you are whenever you want,” Richie said in a rush, and Eddie realized he must be nervous. Like he was worried that Eddie wasn’t going to say it back. “But I think a blowjob might help with the tension.”</p><p>Eddie paused.</p><p>He knew he should probably push it. What Richie said was… a lot (Eddie was struggling with not hearing Richie’s voice, over and over again in his head, <em>“I’m in love with you”</em>, fuck) but clearly Richie didn’t want to discuss it yet, out of nerves or whatever else, and Eddie wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say in response.</p><p>He knew how he felt but he wasn’t sure how to put any of it into words and the idea made his stomach twist in knots, anxiety tripping him up because he was also deeply afraid. Terrified. Like he was going to fuck it up.</p><p>Also.... the topic Richie was trying to get him to focus on was distracting.</p><p>Eddie found himself a bit flustered at the idea, feeling almost like he had whiplash between it and Richie’s other admission.</p><p>“You’d like that?” he felt compelled to ask.</p><p>Richie gave him a look but he seemed very relieved that Eddie wasn’t pushing the whole love situation.</p><p>“Uh, <em>yeah</em>,” he said simply.</p><p>“I haven’t…” Eddie cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “Myra thought it was gross and I didn’t care so I haven’t really, uh, had that before.”</p><p>Richie edged in closer. “Would you like to?”</p><p>As usual, he didn’t sound pushy but just very, very interested in proceeding if Eddie was.</p><p>Eddie felt his pulse jumping at his throat.</p><p>“I guess,” he breathed out, “but only if it does anything for you.”</p><p>Richie let out an incredulous laugh. “I can assure you that won’t be an issue.”</p><p>And that’s how Eddie ended up with his pants somewhere on the floor, biting into a fist as Richie kneeled between his legs.</p><p>“Oh my god,” he muttered at the ceiling. “Okay,” he said senselessly, “I’m starting to understand the appeal. This is… good.”</p><p>Richie hummed and Eddie’s breath hitched as he pressed his head back further into the couch, almost hurting his neck. He could <em>feel</em> it, in Richie’s throat, at the back of his tongue.</p><p>Vibrating.</p><p>He thought maybe he had made a strange noise. He thought it must have been him since he didn’t feel it come from Richie (Jesus fucking <em>Christ</em>), but it didn’t sound like Eddie. It was a weird sound, like he was trying to curse and breathe in and growl all at the same time.</p><p>He felt Richie crowding in closer and risked a glance downward. Richie was using his broad shoulders to nudge Eddie’s knees even further apart. Good lord, Eddie’s underwear was still pooled around one foot. He probably looked ridiculous. Then his eyes landed on Richie’s face - he still had his glasses on and they were fogging slightly and digging into nose but he was staring up at Eddie intently, his lips stretched…</p><p>Eddie swallowed, mouth dry, and shot his gaze back up to the ceiling.</p><p>“Um,” he stuttered out, feeling his hips twitch, giddy when he realized Richie was holding him down pretty effectively. “I know I’ve joked about your stamina before but, uh, this might not last that long?” he continued, voice weirdly high.</p><p>Richie just hummed again and Eddie clasped a hand over his mouth to muffle the keening noise before it could escape. Richie wasn’t really moving up and down all that much, as Eddie had seen happen in the few pornos he had watched before. He stayed mostly fixed in place, but his tongue massaged Eddie while he hollowed out his cheeks and it made Eddie’s toes curl, blood running hot. He felt Richie move one of his hands, grabbing Eddie’s calf and hitching his leg over his shoulder. Eddie risked looking down again.</p><p>“Wha…” he started to ask but then he felt Richie was sinking down onto him more, far further than must have been comfortable (<em>shit</em>), and his hand drifted to Eddie’s balls (not something he’d ever think to ask for but which was much nicer than Eddie would have assumed) and then his perineum. Stroking up, the tip of his finger reaching -</p><p>Eddie jolted in surprise.</p><p>“Oh, wow, okay,” he stammered. “That’s… my asshole.”</p><p>His head was swimming. He felt Richie pull his hand back a little, even before Eddie was done speaking.</p><p>Richie popped off of him and the sudden temperature change made Eddie grit his teeth.</p><p>“Sorry, too much?” Richie asked. His voice was fucking wrecked. Eddie shuddered a little at the sound of it. “My bad, I should have cleared that with you first,” he continued, sounding self-reproaching.</p><p>Eddie had to take a couple quick, deep breaths, staring at the ceiling before shooting Richie what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Looking down was a mistake. Richie’s mouth was…</p><p>Eddie swallowed around his overly-large tongue.</p><p>“I, uh - no. It’s… it’s fine.” He shook his head because that wasn’t what he meant. “No, I mean it’s good. I was just, um, surprised. I’m not sure if I can deal with much more than that or anything but like, I-I don’t hate that.”</p><p>He rubbed a hand over his face, embarrassed to find that he was telling the truth.</p><p>Apparently Eddie was okay with butt stuff.</p><p>Jesus Christ.</p><p>Richie ran a soothing palm over his knee, leaving a hot trail in its wake.</p><p>“How would you feel about, like, <em>slightly</em> more?” he asked, a bit cautious. He hastily added, “No pressure.”</p><p>Eddie swallowed hard. “Like - like what?”</p><p>“Like…”</p><p>Richie then smirked a tiny bit and made a small circle with his thumb and forefinger before very gently pressing a finger of his opposite hand through the ring he’d made. He only went up to one knuckle. He raised an eyebrow, as if going, “see what I’m saying?” He then spread out his hands, shrugging and grinning.</p><p>Eddie stared at his hands, feeling like his brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen. He could suddenly picture it, in perfect clarity - Richie’s finger disappearing into him, stretching him. Something strangely animalistic surged in him at the invasive thought. He took an unsteady breath and was slightly startled to find his erection hadn’t flagged at <em>all</em> during the conversation. If anything, he felt even more on edge.</p><p>“Uh,” he started, mouth dry. “I mean, that - that could be okay, maybe.” He swallowed and hastily added, “But not like… more than that. Probably.”</p><p>“Cool.” Richie’s red lips stretched into a smile. “If you <em>do</em> hate it, you can kick me or something,” he offered, still so hoarse that Eddie felt his pulse in his whole body. “Or tell me to stop.” He regarded Eddie seriously. “I won’t be pissed either way.”</p><p>Eddie gave him what felt like a frantic nod and Richie grinned again, yanking Eddie forward a little so he was even more slouched on the couch so Richie could, Eddie assumed, have more access to his ass.</p><p>“Okay, cool,” Eddie replied, faint. “Sure.”</p><p>Richie gave him another smile, a little more mischievous this time, hitching Eddie’s leg over his shoulder again.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Eddie Spaghetti,” he murmured. “I’m gonna take good care of you.”</p><p>Eddie made a disgusted noise that quickly turned into a broken-off curse and a moan as Richie ducked back down, swallowing around Eddie even further while simultaneously teasing his hole with a finger again. The pressure sent a strange sort of thrill through his stomach and his mind reeled.</p><p>“Oh my God,” Eddie moaned in spite of himself. “Don’t fucking call me that. You’re so fucking stupid, I hate you so much.” He squirmed in his seat, unsure of where he was trying to go, not even processing the words he was saying. “I can’t believe I’d let you blow me with a mouth that dumb.”</p><p>Richie made his own strange helpless noise, an aborted groan.</p><p>A slightly manic laugh bubbled out of Eddie, which turned into a punched-out noise when Richie teased and sunk a digit into him.</p><p>Fuck, that was a lot. In a good way, but still a lot. It was a sort of fullness that was so foreign that Eddie almost wanted to pull away but he felt himself nearly growing frantic with an urge to push down as Richie gently probed him.</p><p>“Of course you’re into me insulting while you’re doing this,” he babbled, feeling his leg reflexively tense against Richie’s broad back, pulling him closer. “What, do you want me to fucking bully you?” he continued, feeling out of his mind. “Give you a wedgie and shove you into a fucking locker?”</p><p>Richie’s breath was labored and he started bobbing his head in earnest, finger coming in and out.</p><p>The combination made Eddie’s vision swim, an involuntary noise wrenched out of him.</p><p>“Do you want me to tell you you’re not fucking funny and I think all your jokes suck?” Eddie gasped. He was close, he could tell. He almost choked when he felt Richie trying to swallow around him. “That I think you’re a fucking idiot and I have literally never met anyone more annoying in my entire life?”</p><p>Richie made a strange noise, a huffing sound, like he was trying not to cry out but was instead choking on Eddie’s dick.</p><p>“Shit,” Eddie grunted, scrambling to push at Richie’s shoulders with his hands while simultaneously reeling him in closer with his leg. “Shit, fuck, Richie, I’m gonna -”</p><p>But Richie just let out a deep, rumbling groan and took him in as deeply as possible. Eddie twisted his shirt in one hand, gripping Richie’s hair with the other, leg spasming slightly as he choked out a gasp and he was coming. It almost felt violent, like something being ripped out of him and he heard himself make a noise like he was in pain, choking on his own voice.</p><p>He was gone for a moment but then he slowly re-entered his body, shuddering.</p><p>Eddie’s tightened joints all seemed to loosen at once and he sagged back against the couch, running a shaking hand over his face.</p><p>“Oh, my God,” he muttered under his breath, shivering as Richie slid off of him with a cough. “Shit, sorry,” Eddie stammered, releasing Richie's hair as he realized he had literally shoved him onto himself while coming.</p><p>Jesus.</p><p>Eddie ran his still-shaking hand through his own hair, trying to regain some sense of muscle coordination as he looked at Richie in a daze. He frowned when Richie began coughing in earnest.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Eddie demanded, trying to sit up. He literally felt like maybe he had blacked out for a second, blinking away stars.</p><p>Richie was swallowing, obviously trying to stop coughing. He grabbed a glass of water from the coffee table, taking a quick drink.</p><p>“Yeah, it’s totally cool,” he said but he sounded like he had been chain-smoking.</p><p>Eddie was not reassured, stomach sinking. “You sound like shit!”</p><p>Richie gave him a thumbs-up, eyes clearly watering. “Just a badge of dick-sucking honor. It’s okay.” While his voice was incredibly rough, he at least sounded sincere. He took another gulp of water, clearing his throat.</p><p>Eddie let out a weird huff of a laugh. He seriously felt like he had no bones. “Okay. Alright. Well, I need a sec but then I can -”</p><p>Richie waved a dismissive hand, his lips still so fucking red as he wiped the sides of his mouth. He was blushing.</p><p>“Uh,” he started, voice still all gravel, before letting out a helpless laugh. “That won’t be necessary.” He gestured downward, expression a bit embarrassed.</p><p>Eddie followed the gesture and gaped at the wet spot at the front of his pants. He turned his wide eyes to Richie.</p><p>“Just from blowing me?” he asked, incredulous.</p><p>Richie ran a hand over the back of his neck, face reddening even more.</p><p>“That was really hot,” he finally admitted. “You’re just… really fucking hot, dude.”</p><p>Eddie let out a slightly hysterical laugh and after a moment, Richie started laughing too before hefting himself up and throwing himself onto the couch next to Eddie. He took another drink.</p><p>“That’s so goddamn flattering,” Eddie mumbled, putting his face into his hands. “What the fuck.”</p><p>Richie shrugged lazily and gave him a soppy smile. “What can I say?” His voice was starting to sound slightly better. ”You’re helping me work through years of sexual repression.”</p><p>Eddie boggled at him as he shimmied back into his underwear. “Repressed? <em>You?</em>”</p><p>Richie snorted. “Yeah, man.” At Eddie’s continued look of disbelief he shrugged again and looked away. “I mean, I didn’t come out to anyone until like six years ago.” He looked Eddie in the eye. “<em>Anyone</em>.” He made a disparaging noise. “I know you’ve seen my comedy, you know what I used to be like.”</p><p>Eddie must have made a face because Richie laughed.</p><p>“What,” he said, “that bad?”</p><p>Eddie tried to school his features. “It was... a lot.” He thought about it for a moment and frowned. “Man, you really did talk about pussy all the time back then. Why did no one ever think you were overcompensating?”</p><p>Rich wrinkled his nose and gave Eddie a slightly amused look. “It’s super weird hearing you say pussy.” He then sighed, expression a bit dark. “And they definitely did.”</p><p>Eddie regarded him for a moment. “When did you know?” he asked because he was curious and because he thought he might get an answer.</p><p>“What, that I was gay?” Eddie nodded and Richie huffed out a laugh. “I should have known when I was really little. I definitely had a crush on Bill but I was a kid so it manifested as me just being an annoying little shit all the time.” He shot Eddie a look, pointing at him. “He already knows that so don’t think that’s blackmail material.”</p><p>Eddie smirked at him. “Noted and glad to hear your methods of courting have reeeeeally advanced since then.”</p><p>Richie rolled his eyes, chucking but still a bit embarrassed.</p><p>“Shut up.” He quieted again, looking at his large hands. His knee started bouncing. “I, uh, kept having these fucked up dreams about this giant Paul Bunyan statue that was in our town when I was like 13,” he confessed, cheeks turning red. “It would come to life and chase me, saying it wanted to kiss me and I’d wake up with a boner.”</p><p>Eddie barked out a laugh. “Holy shit.”</p><p>Richie chuckled. “I know. That’s around the time I knew I was fucked.” He got a slight faraway look. “It was a lot of denial from there but it just got to be too much eventually.”</p><p>Eddie studied him for a moment before blurting out, “I used to have nightmares about a leper trying to blow me.”</p><p>There was a beat of silence.</p><p>“Pardon?” Richie intoned with glee, turning to face Eddie fully.</p><p>Eddie shivered a little, remembering. “It was awful.”</p><p>He caught Richie slowly breaking out into a mischievous grin.</p><p>“So how do I rate?” he asked. Eddie looked at him, questioning. He grinned bigger. “Against the leper.”</p><p>Eddie stared at him for a second before shaking his head and sighing.</p><p>“You are such a jackass. I don’t know why I tell you anything.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>--</p>
</div><p> </p><p> </p><p>They were in a Trader Joe’s. Richie insisted that they had “the best snacks, seriously, Eddie - we can go to fucking Whole Foods or Westerly for your frou-frou normal food bullshit but I need some goddamn cowboy bark” and so there Eddie was, in an aisle that was far too small, trying to avoid the other million people who apparently also wanted snacks.</p><p>Richie side-stepped a woman half his height, deftly maneuvering his basket over her head. “You like ice cream?” he called over his shoulder at Eddie.</p><p>“I’m lactose intolerant,” Eddie reminded him for probably the 100th time since he’d known Richie.</p><p>Richie threw him a look. “Every person I know who’s lactose intolerant eats ice cream. I don’t even think you <em>are</em> lactose intolerant.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry,” Eddie griped before allowing an old man to pass. “Are you a gastroenterologist now?”</p><p>Richie let Eddie catch up to him before leaning down and whispering, “Maybe not but I <em>would</em> get all up in your guts if you’d let me,” into Eddie’s ear, cackling when Eddie smacked him, turning red.</p><p>“You’re disgusting,” he muttered, glancing around to see if anyone heard him.</p><p>Richie grinned at him before going, “Oop,” and side-stepping a woman with a stroller. She looked haggard.</p><p>Eddie gave her a sympathetic smile and glanced over to find Richie looking down at her kid, giving her a soft delighted smile. He offered the little girl a small wave and made a funny face, crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out. The little girl giggled and then they were gone into the crowd. Eddie stared after them, head swimming.</p><p>“Hey,” Richie called to him, at a cooler now. He picked up a box, showing it to Eddie who just looked at it, dumbfounded and not registering a word written on it. “What do you think of mochi?” Richie examined the label. “I used to think the texture was weird but now I kind of like it - it’s like an excuse to finally like <em>fully</em> eat gum, you know?”</p><p>Eddie didn’t know.</p><p>Eddie didn’t know anything.</p><p>Richie didn’t seem to notice that Eddie had offered no input - he just gave the box a considering look and shrugged before putting it in the basket and starting to drift away again.</p><p>Eddie suddenly felt words bubbling up inside him, like a volcano in his chest.</p><p>“Richie,” he started, voice distant as he caught up to him again. He grabbed the back of Richie’s jacket and tugged. “Rich.”</p><p>He stopped looking at the shelf they were near and gave Eddie a distracted smile.</p><p>“Hmm, what’s up?” he asked.</p><p>Eddie swallowed.</p><p>In a somewhat shaky and hushed voice, he said, “I’m in love with you.”</p><p>Richie stopped stock still for a moment, turning to fully stare at Eddie before he looked at the shelf, cocked his head, looked at the floor, moved out of the way of a small woman and then looked at Eddie again.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he started, voice thin, “<em>what?</em>”</p><p>Eddie felt a smile grow on his face.</p><p>“I love you,” he said less shakily, shrugging.</p><p>Richie scoffed, looking around them, brow furrowing.</p><p>“Is it the Trader Joe’s?” he demanded, slightly hysterical.</p><p>“No,” Eddie replied simply.</p><p>Richie stared at him, blinking owlishly.</p><p>“Wha-” Richie made a breathless sound of confusion and ran a hand through his hair.</p><p>He shook his head and took a step back, half-turning away from Eddie (almost like he was trying to make sure he didn’t see) to do a small triumphant fist-pump. He then crouched down and let out a slightly agonized yell, startling a laugh out of Eddie. A few people stepped around them but a few more stopped to stare. Richie shot back up to his full height and brushed his hair off his forehead, giving everyone around them an apologetic hand wave, pushing his glasses up his nose with a slightly shaky hand.</p><p>“You-” he breathed once he collected himself, wagging an accusatory finger at Eddie and taking a step his way. “We’re at a Trader Joe’s! We are twenty minutes from either of our places!”</p><p>Eddie let out a helpless laugh. “Sorry, I couldn’t stop myself.”</p><p>They stared at each other, Richie still breathing hard. There was heat in his gaze and Eddie felt that familiar electrified hum in the air.</p><p>Richie took another unsteady step toward him and wrestled him into a tight hug.</p><p>“You’re a fucking menace,” he whispered into Eddie’s hair. “I’m serious, you’re gonna get me arrested one of these days for an act of public indecency.”</p><p>He pressed a rough kiss to Eddie’s hair and pulled away.</p><p>Eddie smirked at him.</p><p>“Sorry,” he replied, not sounding sorry at all.</p><p>Richie barked out a laugh and kept an arm slung around Eddie. “You’re so goddamn feral,” he muttered. More loudly, he said, “Let’s buy some snacks and get the <em>fuck</em> out of here.”</p><p>They were in line when Richie grabbed his hand and gave Eddie a soppy smile.</p><p>“I love you, too.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>have you guys TRIED the mochi ice cream at TJ’s? </p><p>God, I haven’t been to Trader Joe’s since March and I would kill to be trapped in one of their inconsiderately-small aisles right now, fighting an old woman for the last package of dried juicy mango. </p><p> </p><p>I think this fic makes it pretty obvious I’m a millennial because romance to me is a) someone giving me notebooks, b) someone offering to cook for me, c) someone writing a cover letter for me, d) hanging out in a Trader Joe’s and e) someone hitting me with a car.</p><p> </p><p>I feel like I also need to point out that Perry The Pooping Penguin is a real drawing my roommate made and had hanging in our bathroom for like 3 years but she didn’t put it up in our new place and it makes me so sad every time I pee.</p><p>Next chapter is the last one, which is the epilogue</p><p> </p><p>you can find me on tumblr or twitter where I pretend to be a stone-cold bitch:<br/>https://fullofbeansandspunk.tumblr.com/<br/>https://twitter.com/shwahaha</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. There's a boy I know, he's the one I dream of (aka The Epilogue)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>How will I know if he really loves me?<br/>I say a prayer with every heartbeat<br/>I fall in love whenever we meet<br/>I'm asking you what you know about these things</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It’s the epilogue, friends! Enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
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<p></p><div class="center">
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    <em> <span class="u">Eddie</span> </em>
  </p>
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<p> </p>
<p>Eddie liked French restaurants.</p>
<p>Richie, it would seem, did not.</p>
<p>Well, maybe he liked the food but it definitely seemed like he liked annoying Eddie more.</p>
<p>He was actually wearing a button-up for once in his fucking life (Bev had been delighted when Eddie had said, “I just need him to have, like, three outfits that don’t make him look like the floor of a Goodwill.”</p>
<p>Richie had protested. “I’m fighting the man, Eddie. Why won’t you accept that the man needs to be fought?”</p>
<p>“That’s fine,” Eddie shot back, snippy, “it would just be cool if there were times where we could go out and people wouldn’t assume I was your fucking caretaker.”) and had on some nice horn-rimmed glasses but he still was deadset on being as obnoxious as humanly possible.</p>
<p>“Garçon,” he said to their waiter, only he pronounced it “Gair-kon”. “Which of the horse divorces come the most highly recommended?”</p>
<p>The waiter fought a small smile as Eddie glowered.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, ignore him,” Eddie cut in. “My boyfriend is a moron but I can assure you that he will tip well.” The waiter shot an assessing look at Richie who grinned at him. “We’ll just start off with the Bordeaux and the brandade de morue canapés?”</p>
<p>“Excellent choice,” the waiter said, still obviously fighting not to laugh when Richie did an absurd little bow in thanks.</p>
<p>“And could we get some more bread?” Richie asked, holding up the basket. It was still basically full. Eddie eyed it. “It is tray magnifick!”</p>
<p>The waiter let out a small amused exhale before schooling his expression. “Of course.”</p>
<p>Richie did a chef’s kiss and Eddie sunk down in his chair. “Wonderful! Mercy!”</p>
<p>The waiter bit his lip and left.</p>
<p>Richie tore off a chunk of bread and shoved it into his mouth, starting to chew obnoxiously.</p>
<p>“This is a reeeeal swanky place,” he lilted to Eddie, putting on one of his awful 1940’s gangster voices. “Thanks for showin’ me a good time, dollface.”</p>
<p>Good lord.</p>
<p>“Would it kill you to be a little less of a jackass?” Eddie growled at him.</p>
<p>Richie tapped his chin, mocking being deep in thought before shoving more bread into his face.</p>
<p>“No can do,” he said, muffled around the bread before dropping the stupid voice. “But you know you love my free spirit.” He put more bread into his mouth. “You can’t pin this butterfly down, dude.”</p>
<p>Eddie was going to murder him. Eddie was going to literally take him outside and throttle him.</p>
<p>Eddie was…</p>
<p>He startled a bit, realizing a familiar heat was filling his stomach.</p>
<p>Oh, Jesus.</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” he gasped, disgusted. “I think maybe I’m into how fucking stupid you are.” He wrinkled his nose.</p>
<p>Richie didn’t look remotely surprised. He just grinned, continuing to chew with his mouth open.</p>
<p>“Yeah, no shit!” he laughed. “It’s called being a morosexual, baybay.” He winked.</p>
<p>Eddie snorted. “That explains how you’ve ever gotten laid.”</p>
<p>Richie made a considering face and started to grab another piece of bread. Eddie snatched onto his wrist.</p>
<p>“I swear to God,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice down, “if you keep shoving bread into your stupid mouth…”</p>
<p>Richie leaned forward, a glint in his eye. “You’ll shove something else in there?”</p>
<p>Eddie met his gaze, narrowing his eyes.</p>
<p>“Yeah, my foot all the way down your throat so I can stomp your fucking dick,” he hissed.</p>
<p>A few people glanced at their table. Eddie was a bit too fired up to care.</p>
<p>As per usual, Richie just looked delighted. He swallowed the remaining bread in his mouth and gave Eddie a wide grin.</p>
<p>“Careful, Eddie,” he tsked. “You better stop being so mean to me or I swear to <em>god</em> I’m gonna propose to you.”</p>
<p>Eddie released his wrist, stunned, and fell back into his seat. Richie took a sip of water, smirk on his face.</p>
<p>Fighting the strange shaky feeling in his stomach, Eddie rolled his eyes, trying to scoff.</p>
<p>“Yeah fucking right.”</p>
<p>Richie leaned onto his forearms, bread forgotten, a gleam in his eye.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna do it, man. And I promise you, you <em>will</em> hate it.”</p>
<p>Eddie bit down on a helpless smile, shooting the other man a glare.</p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>Richie leaned even further forward. “Yeah, dude. It’ll be in public.” He smirked when Eddie frowned. “And I’m gonna invite all your coworkers and I’m gonna play the guitar and sing a song that I wrote for you personally. It’s gonna be, like, <em>so</em> long. None of the lyrics are gonna rhyme but my speech afterward <em>will</em>.”</p>
<p>Eddie couldn’t decide if this was romantic or horrifying. Richie just grinned when Eddie frowned harder.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna organize a flashmob dance,” Richie continued, “and there’s gonna be a purebred dog in a little powder blue tuxedo that matches my powder blue tuxedo that’s gonna bring the ring out to you while really, <em>really</em> loud fireworks go off that spell: ‘Eddie Spaghetti you won’t <em>regretti</em> marrying me.’”</p>
<p>He spread his hands out.</p>
<p>Ta-da.</p>
<p>He then leaned back, proud of himself.</p>
<p>The heat was back.</p>
<p>Eddie swallowed, considering him.</p>
<p>“The amount of thought you put into that is almost flattering,” he finally said, faint.</p>
<p>Richie blew him a kiss and winked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>---------------------</p>
  <p>
    <em> <span class="u">Richie</span> </em>
  </p>
</div><p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It went on like that for months - every once in a while Richie would catch Eddie scowling at something or making a snide comment, and Richie would advise that, yeah, riding on a carriage behind a farting horse through Central Park was going to be part of the proposal.</p>
<p>Double-decker bus tour? Part of the proposal.</p>
<p>Ice dancing? Part of the proposal.</p>
<p>Taking him on a ferry and doing the whole “I’m the king of the world” thing? Part of it.</p>
<p>Improv everywhere? Proposal, baby.</p>
<p>Going to a hockey game and kissing him on the jumbotron? Hoo boy, you KNOW that’s primo proposal material right there.</p>
<p>“Hey you know where would be great to propose to someone? Medieval Times!”</p>
<p>And every time Eddie would roll his eyes and imply that no jury would convict him if he dropped Richie’s corpse in the Atlantic.</p>
<p>So of course Richie was taken off-guard when one evening, after he had finished a set and was in the process of taking off his jacket and gulping down some water, he opened his green room door only to find Eddie standing there in a nice suit and tie.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Eddie said brusquely, rubbing the palms of his hands on his suit pants. “Sit down.” He gestured to the ugly couch against the far wall.</p>
<p>In shock, Richie moved wordlessly to the couch and sank into it, his stomach turning. Eddie hadn’t been planning on coming to this show, right?</p>
<p>What the fuck?</p>
<p>Eddie stood in front of him, shifting from foot to foot.</p>
<p>“Listen, I -“</p>
<p>“Are you breaking up with me?” Richie blurted out, cutting him off, nerves making him almost feel like he had motion sickness. “Is this like a power play where you look hot and then break up with me?”</p>
<p>Eddie opened and closed his mouth a few times before sputtering out an indignant, “No!”</p>
<p>Richie narrowed his eyes at him. “So you’re not dumping me?”</p>
<p>Eddie wrinkled his nose.</p>
<p>“What about this,” he gestured to himself and the room at large, making Richie aware of the fact that there were actually several lit candles, “makes you think I’m fucking dumping you?”</p>
<p>Richie sank into his seat. “You seem really serious.”</p>
<p>“<em>Yeah!</em>” Eddie nearly shouted before closing his eyes, seeming to center himself. “Can you just shut the fuck up for five seconds?”</p>
<p>Richie gave a half-shrug, trying to fight the panic that was still swelling in him.</p>
<p>“Challenging but I’ll try,” he said weakly.</p>
<p>“Just… nothing’s wrong,” Eddie clarified. “But I do need to talk to you about something.”</p>
<p>Richie’s brow furrowed as he had a realization.</p>
<p>“Oh,” he breathed as it clicked. “You’re not attracted to me anymore.” He nodded, pursing his lips. “Okay, alright, we can work with this.”</p>
<p>Sure, it wasn’t ideal but they’d had a good run - better than Richie ever would have expected - so he could deal with it as long as Eddie wasn’t dumping him.</p>
<p>Eddie threw despairing hands towards the sky.</p>
<p>“No, you dipshit!” he actually shouted this time. “I’m still into you for some reason! Now stop guessing!” he begged. “Please.”</p>
<p>Richie bit the inside of his cheek, feeling worried again.</p>
<p>“Look,” Eddie continued, after visibly calming himself, “I… I’m in love with you.” As per usual, Richie’s pulse jumped at the words, now at war with the sick feeling in his stomach, still half-convinced this was a bad conversation. “No matter what I said before, you are definitely 100% an exception for me in every sense of the word. You are an annoying fucking clown half the time and seem to take a lot of joy and put a lot of care into fucking with me. But you have the same consideration when it comes to making me happy.”</p>
<p>Eddie was blinking rapidly and Richie found himself swallowing, an odd lump in his throat. What was going on?</p>
<p><em>Eddie’s dying,</em> a panicked voice screamed inside of him. <em>He has cancer and he’s dying.</em></p>
<p>Richie bit down on his tongue to keep the words in his mouth.</p>
<p>“You love people a lot,” Eddie continued. “You’re like… so giving, it’s stupid. And, uh.” He cleared his throat, voice cracking. “You see me. You make me feel seen. And I feel like you like what you see. You make me feel like… you - you love what you see and I can never express what that means to me.”</p>
<p>With that, Eddie reached into his pocket and got down on one knee.</p>
<p>Wait.</p>
<p>Wait <em>what</em>?</p>
<p>Richie’s heart was going overtime. Was he going to pass out? He felt like he was gonna pass out.</p>
<p>“Ow,” Eddie complained, moving to get onto both knees, causing Richie to let out a wet laugh.</p>
<p>Eddie pulled a small box out of his pocket.</p>
<p>Richie was going to puke.</p>
<p>“I knew I had to get ahead of the curve on this one,” Eddie said, his hand shaking as he clutched the box. Richie stared at it, wide-eyed. “Because if you did this, it would be something horrible and then I’d have to break up with you and I don’t want that. I never want to break up with you. Even if you are an idiot.”</p>
<p>He thrust the box Richie’s way and Richie took it without thinking, hands trembling. He took a deep breath and opened it, tears blurring the edges of his vision as he stared at the simple gold ring inside.</p>
<p>Eddie wasn’t dying, that much was pretty fucking clear.</p>
<p>But was this actually happening? Was he asking what Richie thought he was asking? He turned his probably huge eyes Eddie’s way.</p>
<p>The other man just stared at him for a moment before shaking himself and reaching up one hand to pull at his hair in self-reproach.</p>
<p>“Right, shit, sorry - fuck.” His face was bright red. “I, uh, am asking if you’ll marry me, in case that wasn’t obvious.”</p>
<p>Oh shit, oh Jesus.</p>
<p>Richie hiccuped, staring down at the box.</p>
<p>He opened his mouth, intending to say yes but instead a strange noise that sounded something more like “yee” came out and his body was suddenly gripped in a strangled sob. Eddie froze, eyes wide and terrified for a moment before he surged forward, hovering panicky hands over Richie’s face.</p>
<p>“Happy or sad tears?” he asked, frantic.</p>
<p>“Happy,” Richie managed to get out, crying on the word. When he met Eddie’s eyes, he saw that the other man had tears running down his face, too. “Wait, <em>you’re</em> crying? Why are you crying?” Richie demanded.</p>
<p>“I don’t fucking know!” Eddie choked out, touching his own tears in surprise. “Why are <em>you</em> crying?!”</p>
<p>“I don’t know!” Richie sobbed, hiccupping again. “I just -“</p>
<p>But then he hiccupped once more and his stomach heaved. He threw himself over the arm of the couch, quickly grabbing the waste paper basket there and barfing into it.</p>
<p>When he sagged back into his seat, he found Eddie staring at him, a slightly manic smile on his face though he was still crying.</p>
<p>“Oh my God,” he laughed, eyes wide.</p>
<p>Richie ran a shaking hand over his mouth. “Sorry, shit, that was from… too many emotions. Not because I’m, like, nervous.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I am, but in a good way.”</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Eddie said, hovering back in his space, pushing Richie’s sweaty hair from his forehead. “Bill said he thought you’d puke.” He started laughing a little again, just this side of hysterical. “This is a mess. I almost forgot to actually propose.”</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Richie hiccuped back. “I didn’t even say yes properly.” He popped the box open again, digging the ring out and attempting to put the ring on his finger, only he was shaking so badly that he kept fucking it up. “Shit.”</p>
<p>Eddie let out another helpless laugh, saying, “Here, let me,” before grabbing Richie’s hand and shoving the ring on. He blinked down at it, eyes extremely wide again.</p>
<p>Richie clutched the back of Eddie’s neck with the hand that wasn’t wearing the ring.</p>
<p>“It is yes, by the way,” he said, jostling Eddie just a little bit. “Yes.”</p>
<p>Eddie pressed their foreheads together.</p>
<p>“You’re so fucking stupid,” he whispered, before kissing Richie. He then pulled back and gagged. “Oh my god, you just barfed, I can’t believe I kissed your barf mouth. Ugh, gross.”</p>
<p>Richie pulled him into a hug.</p>
<p>“Careful, Eddie,” he whispered into Eddie’s hair, holding him tighter when he felt the other man give a full-body shiver. Richie paused and clicked his tongue. “It just occurred to me that I never properly thanked you for hitting me with your car.”</p>
<p>Eddie sniffled into his shoulder, letting out a strangled laugh. “You’re welcome, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Also, just in case it wasn’t obvious,” Richie felt compelled to add, voice soft, “I love you.”</p>
<p>He could only grin as Eddie thumped him in the shoulder.</p>
<p>“I love you, too. Idiot.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That’s all, folks! I’m a fucking sap. Thanks everyone for comments and kudos and bookmarks and shit, they warm the cockles of my heart. </p>
<p>I may potentially write more to this series if the mood strikes but don’t hold me to that. It also might take me 10 years. No promises but let me know if that’s something you’d be into???? Maybe?????????</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Also the proposal game is a game my friends and I play, where we try to come up with the worst proposal for the other person and then say we’re gonna tell their SO that that’s what we’re gonna suggest if they ever ask us about their dream proposal. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>you can find me on tumblr or twitter (or both if ya nasty):<br/>https://fullofbeansandspunk.tumblr.com/<br/>https://twitter.com/shwahaha</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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